The Aftermath
by Kyonetsu
Summary: An unofficial continuation of the No Mercy campaign. What will the Survivors do now that they don't have to fight the Infected? Multi-chapter! Bill x Zoey. Rated for Language! :D Enjoy
1. Don't Look Back

**Pairing:** Bill x Zoey with _implied_ Francis x Louis (you can read into that last pairing :P)

**Warnings:** This fan fiction contains coarse language and references to violence not suitable for younger readers.

**Other Warnings:** This fan fiction and the following chapters _may_ contain strong adult themes.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Left 4 Dead or any of the characters. My story also does not follow directly with the game (for those of you that are aware of the Crash Course campaign).

Hello everyone! This is the first fan fiction that I have posted on this site! Please feel free to review (try to be nice please :3). If enough people like it, I'll post more~

Also just a small hint to make things a little easier: _italicized_ phrases are considered thoughts. _Italicized_ words alone are just for emphasis. I'm sure you guys would be able to figure that out eventually though :P Anyway...

Enjoy!

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Louis stared up at the dull clouds, his eyes catching a few raindrops while the rest dripped down his face. Thunder rumbled lightly as a measly streak of lightning skittered across the night sky. That's when he saw it. In the distance he could see an object moving closer and suddenly he knew. He knew exactly what it was. "Guys! The helicopter is coming!"

Francis looked over as he finished killing an Infected that just didn't want to die. "It's about time. I hate being stuck here," he said and reloaded his gun. "At least this was the last of 'em."

"Don't be so sure."

The biker caught sight of the old man and scoffed. "Oh yeah, Bill? What makes you say that?"

"Wel—"

"Uh, guys? I think Bill's right," Zoey said as she drew nearer to the group, her back turned to them. Suddenly her finger was wrapped firmly around the trigger of her Uzi, laying waste to a group of Infected climbing over the ledge.

Instead of the air growing quiet after she finished her round, a low hum grew until the group could clearly hear the screams of the horde swelling all around them. The building shook lightly. Louis had a sick feeling in his stomach; yet again he knew exactly what it was. "Shit! Shit, shit, shit! We need to get to the helicopter pad _now_!"

The Survivors ran toward the metal ramp, the building shaking even more. Bill glanced back and saw the source of quake: an increasingly cross Tank. He fell back, pulled out his shotgun, and aimed directly for its ugly head. Shots pierced through the air as the deafening whir of the helicopter drew near; Bill was getting antsy. _Why won't this bastard die?!_ he thought as he reloaded his gun. The veteran readied his aim once more when he heard his name being called from behind.

"Bill! What are you _doing_? We need to go! C'mon!"

He looked back quickly to the group as they jumped onto the helicopter and turned his gaze to the Tank. The old man let free a few more bullets before heading in their direction but soon found himself to be airborne.

Zoey watched in horror as the Tank grabbed Bill by his ankle and slung him into the air. Her heart dropped when he hit the ground, hearing him groan in pain as he lay defenseless. His shotgun remained on the helicopter pad. A low growl flew from the college girl's lips as she fired at the mutant unrelentingly and didn't even notice when Louis joined her in the onslaught.

Meanwhile Francis jumped from the helicopter and ran straight for their incapacitated comrade. To his disappointment the majority of the Infected were by the Tank; he wanted to slay a few while he saved Bill from further injury. "Ya don't look so good, old timer," said Francis as he helped the veteran to his feet.

Bill smirked. "You wouldn't either if some mutated fuck had tossed _you_ like a ragdoll."

The biker laughed lightly and looked to the helicopter. "We better hurry or they'll leave our asses." He started back to the pad and noticed Bill wasn't following him. "Are ya comin' or what?"

Bill leaned heavily against the wall he had slammed into earlier. His breathing seemed labored. "Damn! My leg is killin' me..." he muttered and staggered toward the other man.

"We don't have _time_ for this, old man!" With that much said, Francis hoisted the Bill up onto his back and carried him back up the ramp.

To Zoey's relief the Tank died just as Francis came up to the helicopter carrying Bill. They managed to get both of them aboard without any further delay and soon the group was headed away from the city.

**********

As much as she wanted to, Zoey couldn't relax. Her gun was still warm from firing so many rounds at that Tank; she would've shot it even more if she hadn't run out of ammunition. The girl's attention soon turned to the men. Louis hastily bandaged his wounds and kept looking around as if to watch out for more of the horde. Francis, on the other hand, insisted on arguing with Bill.

"You didn't 'ave to carry me. I coulda walked back just fine."

"Well I coulda just left ya there! How 'bout that?"

"Fine by me! Then I wouldn't 'ave to look at your sorry ass!"

"Guys, guys! Stop fighting!" Zoey exclaimed and came between the two. She watched as Bill sat back down and Francis lowered his tightened fist, both of them grumbling under their breath. The girl got a small satisfaction from seeing them do what she said; she rather liked it.

Louis walked over to the others. "Thank you, Zoey. I was getting tired of listening to these two bitch and moan."

"I can bitch and moan all I want. That fucking thing _threw_ me thirty feet," Bill said, narrowing his eyes dangerously. He would've said more unpleasant things but his ankle began to throb. The pain was something he was used to but still, it hurt like hell!

"C'mon guys, that's enough," Louis intervened, only to get an irritated looked from both of the other men.

Francis scoffed once more and made his way to the opposite side of the helicopter, Louis following after. "Whatever. You do what you want," he muttered and finally sat down to heal his own wounds.

Zoey watched their retreating backs until they sat down and turned her attention back to Bill. He had been watching her, she noted. "So where does it hurt?"

"It doesn't. I'm _fine_." Bill feigned normalcy but it was obvious to the girl he was lying.

She sighed lightly. "I just want to help you, okay? I—" She stopped herself, blushing self-consciously.

Bill looked up at the girl. It didn't quite register at first that her cheeks were flushed but he soon realized this and the way she was holding herself. Before Zoey looked very—well, normal. Now she seemed embarrassed and he couldn't figure out why. He cleared his throat. "I, uh, it's my right ankle." Bill clutched his knees lightly, feeling the dull pain growing a little more.

Zoey let out the breath she was holding, wondering to herself why she was holding it in the first place, and got on her knees in front of the old war vet. "Can I—?" She motioned to his boot.

He furrowed his brows and pulled his foot away from her. "I can do it myself."

The college girl watched as Bill attempted to pull his foot up to rest on the opposite knee but with no avail. As much as he wanted to remove his own shoe, he couldn't do it_ that_ way. The old man decided to lean over to untie the boot, his face mere inches away from Zoey's as he did this. He felt her eyes on him; the thought made him nervous.

Needless to say Zoey was thrown off when she saw him lean over and couldn't help but look at him. Honestly his face was practically in hers so it's not like she could very well ignore him. Still Zoey felt awkward being this close to their leader.

Across the helicopter two pairs of eyes were watching them.

"So what do you make of this?" Francis questioned, nudging Louis in the arm, and motioned to the other two.

Louis looked up and didn't really understand what Francis meant. "What? What are you talking about?" He watched the biker roll his eyes.

"Seriously, Louis?" Francis cleared his throat and scratched his jaw. "Do you not see what I see?"

"What? I see Zoey helping Bill. What do _you_ see?" the analyst asked, staring at Francis under tensed eyebrows.

Francis sighed and gave Louis a look that practically said 'Really?'.

"_What_?"

"If you say 'what' one more time..."

Louis breathed out an exasperated sigh. "Well if you'd just _tell_ me what you mean instead of expecting me to read your mind—"

"You wouldn't _want_ to read my mind, Louis. I mean, my thoughts are unfathomable."

The black man laughed out his nose and smiled. "I didn't know you knew that word."

"I'm insulted, Louis! Are you implying that I am uneducated?" The biker feigned being offended. "I mean, really dude! That hurts."

Louis shook his head and laughed a little. "Can we get back on topic? As much as I like playing cat and mouse with you, I'd much rather know what the hell you're talking about."

Francis conceded and leaned closer to the other man, placing his hand on Louis's back. This proximity made the analyst uncomfortable but there wasn't much he could do about it. "Look at them. Look how they're acting," the biker said, pointing at them with his other hand. "This is what I see, Louis. I see a man and a woman unaware of the other's intentions. In other words, they got the hots for each other. I mean, I didn't see Zoey jumping to the chance to help either of us. Ya know what I'm sayin'?"

"I'm not sure I do! You saw how bad Bill looked! He needs help more than we do," Louis argued, seeing where Francis was going with this.

Francis exhaled loudly. "Okay think of it this way. Haven't you ever noticed that the two of them hang around each other more than with us?

"So? We hang around each other more than with them."

"Well that's different, Louis. You see, unlike you, I like pussy—"

Francis was interrupted by a sharp punch in the arm. "Hey, man! Don't even go there!"

"Well don't imply things then," Francis said and chuckled at his disgruntled friend. "But you see where I'm going with this right? I mean, imagine it were me in Bill's place. Do you really think that Zoey would come running to me because honestly I don't."

"I see what you mean. I mean, I wouldn't wanna run to you either." Louis half-expected to be punched back but wasn't. He looked at Francis who was raising an eyebrow at him. "Sorry...I don't know. I guess I don't really see them having that sort of relationship. It's...kinda weird."

"Yeah, considering he's old enough to be her dad." Francis subconsciously grimaced a little but shook it off.

Louis pulled away from the biker and rubbed the back of his neck. "Can we stop talking about this? This is just—a little much for me."

Francis breathed out a short laugh and nodded. "Fine, fine you win. I just hate not knowing, ya know?"

"Francis, you hate everything." Louis looked at the other man matter-of-factly.

The biker smiled raunchily and ran his hand down Louis's back. "I don't hate _you_."

The black man practically jumped out of the helicopter from sheer disbelief. "Dude, I told you not to go there!"

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Thank you for reading!! :D


	2. Sharp Turn

**Pairing:** Bill x Zoey with _implied_ Francis x Louis (you can read into that last pairing :P)

**Warnings:** This fan fiction contains coarse language and references to violence not suitable for younger readers.

**Other Warnings:** This fan fiction and the following chapters _may_ contain strong adult themes.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Left 4 Dead or any of the characters. My story also does not follow directly with the game (for those of you that are aware of the Crash Course campaign).

Well hello there! Here is the second installment of "The Aftermath"! I heard a few good comments on this site as well as from my college friends so I decided to upload the next chapter (yay!). I'd love to get some reviews on this *hint hint* It's always good to know whether or not you're doing it right :)

Once again _italicized_ phrases are considered "thoughts" and are not actually said.

On with the show!!

* * *

Bill hadn't really been paying attention to the other two men as they argued, talked, and joked. His attention was solely on the young girl in front of him. He couldn't help but feel a small warmth inside his chest, something he hadn't felt in a long time. He wasn't entirely sure what it meant nor did he care. It was just nice to have some _positive _attention. The veteran smiled lightly and watched her tend to his ankle.

Zoey rested his bare foot on her thighs as she wrapped his ankle, feeling him flex his toes occasionally. This made her smile inwardly. "Ya know...I was really worried about you out there," she admitted and peered up at Bill.

"Really?" Bill responded almost surprised; he was still getting used to their camaraderie.

"Of course," she replied and smiled more, her cheeks tinted a soft pink. Her grin slowly disappeared and her eyes turned to the floor. "I was really scared when I saw what that Tank did to you...I wish I could've done something more to stop it." Zoey rubbed the top of his foot with her thumb gently, not even realizing what she was doing.

Bill blushed from this simple gesture and before he could pull his foot away, she stopped and looked back up at him. A nervous giggle escaped her lips. "I'm glad you're okay...well, for the most part."

The war vet smirked in reply. "Can't get rid of me _that_ easily."

Without even thinking, she answered back with a coy smile. "Who said I wanted to?" Immediately after these words fell out of her mouth, Zoey grasped what exactly she said and turned bright red. _Oh God, why in the hell did I say that? Why in the hell did I smile like that? He's gonna think I'm hittin' on him!_

Bill wore a similar shade on his rough cheeks, not sure what just happened. He hardly even noticed her hastily finish wrapping his ankle as he busied himself by trying to find his cigarettes. He knew exactly where they were, of course, but she didn't have to know that.

"All done," the girl said, her voice wavering slightly. "D—do you need anything else?"  
She hoped he would say no so that she could easily get away from this situation.

"No, no, thanks. I can do the rest myself." Bill didn't even look at her as he said this, afraid he would give himself away. He lit up his cigarette and kept his eyes to the floor. He saw her shuffle her feet and then walk toward where the other two men were sitting. The old man sighed. _I'm overreacting,_ he thought and breathed out a puff of smoke. _...get it together, Bill. She ain't interested in an old codger like you._

The other three were talking now and Zoey even laughed. Bill took in a drag, pulled the cigarette away from his mouth, and sent another puff into the air. _Maybe Francis or Louis..._

He leaned forward and rested his forearms on his knees. _But not me._

The veteran brought the cigarette to his mouth and breathed in deeply, taking all the smoke up in his mouth. Another cloud formed in front of him and he looked up. In the smoke, he could see Zoey looking at him and then she looked away again. _I'm too old for this shit..._

"So what's goin' on between you and the old guy?"

Zoey glanced up from her daze and brought her attention to the source of question. "Hmm? What do you mean?" She sent Francis a nervous look.

He smirked. "It's obvious there's somethin' up with you two. I saw the way you were lookin' at 'im."

The college girl turned several shades of crimson, her gaze flitting to the side. _Even Francis thinks I was hittin' on him!_

"I-I don't know what you're talkin' about, Francis. I look at him just like I look at you guys," she replied and laughed uneasily. She knew this was a bold lie but maybe they would buy it. "I was just helping him out! I wasn't flirting or anything like that."

"So you admit you were flirting." Francis smiled and raised both his eyebrows.

Zoey's eyes widened. "W-what?! No! I just said I didn't!"

A chuckle escaped the biker's lips. "I didn't say anything about you flirtin' with 'im."

"He's got ya there," Louis piped in.

"What? You too, Louis? I can't believe you guys!" Zoey whined and crossed her arms, feeling more and more uncomfortable by the minute. Her face was burning hot from frustration and embarrassment as she shifted her weight from side to side.

"Calm down, girly. We're just messin' with you," Francis reasoned with a small laugh. "Don't be so serious."

The brunette narrowed her eyes at them both. "You guys suck, ya know that?"

"I don't but Louis does." Francis laughed boisterously, not even caring that the other man was punching him repeatedly in the arm. Even Zoey snickered at the comment.

"Man, you don't hear me makin' fun of you, Francis. Why ya gotta be that way?" Louis complained, feeling a little hurt.

Francis laughed a little more out of his nose. The biker wrapped his arm around the analyst's neck and proceeded to give him a noogie. "Cuz I can, my nigga."

Louis's eyes bugged out from that word and he struggled out of Francis's grip. "I _know_ you just didn't call me a nigga!" He glared sternly at the other man.

"Yeah, I believe I just did." Francis tried his best not to laugh.

"I don't wanna be part of this," Zoey mumbled and walked back over to Bill as Louis blew up again.

"How would you like it if I called you a cracker? Huh, you like that, _cracker_?"

Francis grinned widely and raised an eyebrow at the black man. "Well I 'ave been told I'm salty..."

A loud groan travelled through the helicopter. "What the _fuck_, man?! I did_ not_ need to know that!!"

"What, can't take a little joke, Louis? C'mon, live a little," Francis said and chuckled at him.

Louis sneered, rolling his eyes. "Fuck you, Francis. You're not funny."

"You _know_ I'm funny. You just don't wanna laugh cuz ya know what that means? I win and you lose."

The black man looked over and feigned laughter. "Oh yes because I find cum jokes _so_ funny." _Really, could Francis be any more immature?_ he thought and sat back down. "No, what's funny is how ridiculous those two are being." Louis motioned over to Zoey and Bill who were sitting uncomfortably next to each other, not even talking. "I'm with you on this one, man, even though you're bein' a dick."

"Thank you, Louis, for finally acknowledging I'm right." Francis beamed, ignoring the man's other comment.

Louis rolled his eyes again. "For once."

The biker was about the retort with a smart aleck remark when the copter made a sharp turn, causing everyone to fall over onto the floor. Groans filled the tiny space as the Survivors realized where they were.

Zoey felt especially heavy as she opened her eyes, feeling like she'd just been hit by a ton of bricks. To her surprise she found a certain war vet on top of her; his face was on her chest.

He must've felt her tense up or hear her heart begin to pound because at that moment he looked up at her, his eyes round like saucers. "...Zoey!" Bill rolled over off of her and sat up; it was apparent that he was quite flustered.

He cleared his throat. "Everyone alright?"

"No! Francis won't get the fuck offa me!" Louis cried, struggling to get out from underneath the biker.

"Oh, c'mon, Louis. You know you like it!"

Bill shook his head at the two of them as they continued to argue. A cough sounded behind him, prompting him to turn around. Zoey was sitting up and looked rather disheveled. The veteran knelt down. "You okay?"

She gazed over at him and smiled slightly. "Yeah, you just kinda knocked the wind outta me. That's all."

He laughed lightly and stood up, offering his hand to her. "Well that ain't my fault. Blame the pilot." He hoisted her up, stumbling a little from the weakness of his ankle.

Zoey caught him, holding onto his upper arms for a moment so he wouldn't fall. _For an old guy, he's got some nice arms..._ she thought, feeling his taut muscles. She blushed slightly as her hands fell to her sides and sat down, patting the spot next to her. "Come sit down, Bill."

He hesitated for a moment but his ankle wasn't going to have any of his pussy-footing around. Bill took a seat next to the girl, watching her brush the hair out of her face. "I wonder where this guy's takin' us," he pondered aloud.

"Somewhere safe, I hope," Zoey said. She scrunched her nose a little. "They better have a shower. I feel disgusting."

Bill grunted in response. His mind wandered somewhat until the thought of Zoey showering passed through; he blushed and cleared his throat. "Ya look fine, don't worry."

She looked over at him and smirked. "Is that so?"

"I can't complain," he replied back wholeheartedly and dug another cigarette out of his jacket pocket. He lit it up and took a long drag. Finally the old man glanced back over at her. She was staring again. "Do ya want one?" Bill asked and offered her his cigarette.

Zoey shook her head. "No, that's okay. Thank you though...I think."

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Once again thank you for taking the time to read my writing :) Tallyho to the next chapter?


	3. I Promise

**Pairing:** Bill x Zoey with _implied_ Francis x Louis (you can read into that last pairing :P)

**Warnings:** This fan fiction contains coarse language and references to violence not suitable for younger readers.

**Other Warnings:** This fan fiction and the following chapters _may_ contain strong adult themes.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Left 4 Dead or any of the characters. My story also does not follow directly with the game (for those of you that are aware of the Crash Course campaign).

Hello again! :) First off I'd like to thank everyone who has reviewed my fan fiction thus far! It's definitely nice having some positive feedback.

If you see any grammatical, spelling or wording errors, please let me know. I'm somewhat of a Nazi when it comes to grammar and spelling but even I make mistakes :P

Anyway, I'll let you read this lovely chapter now! Sorry if it's kind of short :(

* * *

After about an hour of flying, the helicopter finally landed on a patch of dying grass, the wind from the slowing blades pushing the nearby tree branches to and fro. The Survivors slowly made their way out, keeping their guard up in case of any attacks from the horde. The pilot hopped out of the helicopter, removed his headset, and greeted them with a smile. The pilot, who coincidently was also named Bill, told them that the house they were standing in front of was considered a "safe" house.

"We're on constant patrol around the area so you shouldn't worry about fighting any more of the Infected. In case of an attack, however, we do have a safe room within the house just as a precaution," the pilot explained as he lead the group toward the simple white house. "All the facilities work but we thought that the accommodations may pose a problem for you."

"What's the problem?" Louis asked and watched the man open the door for them.

The pilot cleared his throat. "Well the house is rather small so proportionally so are the bedrooms—"

"We're used to smaller quarters. It should be fine," Bill reasoned, slightly cutting off the other Bill, and walked inside. The others followed him in and looked all around the small living room, noticing it was a little cleaner than they expected.

"Well other than size, there is another issue," the pilot continued. "This house has two bathrooms, one upstairs and one downstairs. Also it's only a three-bedroom so two of you will have to share a room. There are two single bedrooms down the hall next to the kitchen and one double upstairs." He motioned as he talked, slowly making his way to the door.

"Other than that we hope that this house is to your liking. If you need anything or have any questions, there's a radio to call us on in the living room." Before anyone could complain to the pilot, he was gone and the Survivors were left in the quaint little house.

"...well this sucks," Francis finally said. The other three nodded their heads and grunted in reply. "So which of us is gonna be in the one upstairs?"

Zoey cleared her throat. "No offense to you guys but I'd rather have my own room, considering I _am_ the only woman here."

"I'm too old to be climbin' those fuckin' stairs and my ankle is hurt," Bill commented and looked at the other two men. "So to answer your question: you guys."

Francis groaned. "Man, I hate this. I always get stuck with Louis. Why can't I get stuck with _Zoey_?" He eyed the college girl lustfully, getting a glare from her in reply.

"Because we all know what would happen. You'd cop a feel and she'd beat the shit outta you," said Louis who seemed very irritated. "Besides I didn't _ask_ to get stuck with you either."

Bill rolled his eyes. "Stop complaining. At least you 'ave somewhere to sleep tonight."

Louis conceded and then glared at the biker. "Yeah I guess...but if this mother fucker so much as _breathes_ on me, I'm kickin' his ass."

"I'll breathe on you all I want, sweet cheeks," Francis replied coldly, snorting some air in the black man's direction.

Louis growled and turned on his heels, storming in the direction of the stairs. _Man, why does he have to be so fuckin' annoying? God, this sucks...I _hate_ this...argh, now I'm starting to _sound_ like him! God!..._

Zoey watched Louis stomp up the stairs and continued to hear his loud footsteps overhead. "Francis, why do you have to act that way? Louis is a nice guy," she said and turned to the biker. "What's he ever done to you?"

Francis frowned a bit and sighed. "Nothin'."

The college girl smirked and patted his shoulder. "You should try to be nicer. Ya get more friends that way."

The biker barely smiled and nodded his head, knowing what she really meant. "Yeah, yeah," he responded and went upstairs himself.

"I swear, those two act like a couple of spoiled brats sometimes."

Zoey peered over to Bill who had also been watching the scene. He just stood there with his arms crossed, leaning on the doorframe. She smiled. "Well at least _you_ have some sensibility."

"I should hope so. I'm too fuckin' old to act like that," the veteran replied and scratched his beard.

The brunette leaned her back against the other side of the doorframe and faced him. "You're not _that_ old, Bill. Give yourself some credit," said Zoey as she crossed her arms as well.

"I'm fifty-six years old and I'm feelin' older by the minute," Bill replied, leaning a bit less on his right side. "That Tank didn't help any either."

Zoey furrowed her brows with worry. "Is your ankle still bothering you?"

"My whole leg hurts," Bill grumbled, not enthused about divulging that information.

The girl frowned a little more and went to the door Bill was standing near. She opened it up, looking around inside. "There's a bed in here. You should rest some," she said, turning to the veteran. "Ya know, get off your leg and whatnot."

He nodded slightly. "Probably a good idea." Bill put some weight on his right leg; the pain was worse than it was before, causing him to wince.

"Here, let me help you," said Zoey as she came over to Bill's side. She forced his arm around her shoulder and wrapped hers around his waist. "C'mon you can lean on me."

The old man grumbled lightly. "Ya don't hafta do this. I can get in there on my own."

The two of them started to walk as he said this. Zoey pulled away a little to see if he actually could walk by himself but when she did, Bill began to fall over. Before he could stumble any further, the college girl caught him. "Still think you can do it yourself?"

Bill frowned more and leaned on her for support as she lead him to the bed. "Yeah, yeah. No need to be a smartass, Zoey," he complained and sat down. The bed was a little firm but a lot more comfortable than anything they had been sleeping on.

Zoey felt a little hurt by his comment and turned toward the door. "Let me know if you need anything..." she said gently and left the room, not once turning around to look at him.

The old man saw her whole demeanor change in an instant and felt guilty for some reason. He scratched the back of his head, frowning. "...'Ey, Zoey! Come 'ere fer a minute!"

A moment passed before she appeared at the door, hesitantly coming into the room. "What do ya need, Bill?" the girl asked as she slowly approached him, trying to smile.

"Come talk to an old man," Bill replied, patting the spot next to him on the bed.

Zoey smiled genuinely. "What do ya wanna talk about?"

Bill took off his hat, placed it on the bed behind him, and ran his hand over his thinning hair. "I just wanted to thank you...ya know, fer everything you've done for me," he said, looking occasionally at her. He didn't really ever say things like this so for him to do so made him considerably uncomfortable. "Not just this whole ankle thing but fer just—" The veteran paused and gazed at the college girl, trying to find the right words. "...fer just _bein'_ there for me...I ain't had that in a while. It's a nice feelin'..."

Zoey's smile grew as he spoke, blushing faintly. She'd never heard him speak this way toward her before; it made her feel really good inside. "Aw, Bill...you're very welcome," she said and inched a little closer to him. "Ya know, I'm really glad I met you. I mean, I can't really imagine what my life would be like without you." She giggled somewhat, her nervousness apparent from this habit.

He truly smiled and wrapped an arm about her shoulders, jostling her slightly. "Don't worry, Zoey. I won't leave you," Bill said simply.

Her blush brightened a bit and she looked him intently in the eyes. "Do you promise?"

"I promise."

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Hey there! Thanks for stopping by! C'mon back now, y'hear? :D


	4. Sans Relaxation

**Pairing:** Bill x Zoey with _implied_ Francis x Louis (you can read into that last pairing :P)

**Warnings:** This fan fiction contains coarse language and references to violence not suitable for younger readers.

**Other Warnings:** This fan fiction and the following chapters _may_ contain strong adult themes.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Left 4 Dead or any of the characters. My story also does not follow directly with the game (for those of you that are aware of the Crash Course campaign).

I'm back, folks! :) Bringing you another _riveting_ chapter of The Aftermath *Ooo Aah* Once again, I request reviews from the readers (Oh my an alliteration hehe). It might sway me to post another chapter~

Well enough formalities! Read to your hearts content, lads and lasses!

* * *

Francis made his way upstairs. He wasn't really sure what he needed to say to Louis but he knew he needed to say _something_. The biker hated the idea of sharing a room with someone that didn't want to share it with him. He'd much rather be on good speaking terms with Louis than get killed for breathing on him. Before he opened the upstairs bedroom, he could hear the black man speaking to himself.

"Just my luck to get stuck with a jerk...I'm fuckin' nice to that guy and this is what I get? This is bullshit..."

Francis backed away from the door with a frown. _Maybe now ain't the time..._ he thought and walked back toward the stairwell, the wooden floor squeaking with each step.

"How long have you been there?"

The biker turned around and saw Louis standing in the doorway, his shirt completely un-tucked and tie removed. "Not long," he stated simply and walked over to him. "But long enough to hear I'm a jerk."

Louis looked off to the side, somewhat embarrassed. "Listen, you weren't supposed to hear that. I'm just—"

"Nah, man. Don't worry about it. I deserved that." Francis smiled a bit and shrugged it off. He moved past the analyst into the bedroom and looked around. The bedrooms really were small with just enough room for them to move around. "I see you've made yourself comfortable," he said, motioning to the disheveled bed sheets.

"Oh, sorry! I—I just wanted to lay down for a while to clear my mind," Louis admitted and grabbed his tie off the end of the bed. "So speaking of the bed..."

"Listen, I'm down for whatever; I just wanna sleep. If ya want the whole for yourself, fine. If ya wanna share, that's cool, too," said Francis and took off his vest, slinging it onto the floor. "I don't really wanna argue with you anymore."

Louis smiled broadly. "Well thank you, Francis. I feel a ton better now that you've said that," he replied and sighed. "Since you're bein' nice, I won't make ya sleep on the floor."

The biker laughed out his nose, removing his gloves. "Thanks a lot, Louis. You're a real gentleman."

"I try. So...what side do you want?" Louis asked, rubbing his smooth scalp. "It doesn't matter to me so I'll let you decide."

"I'll take the side that's all messed up. Saves me the effort of doin' it myself," Francis replied with a laugh and sat down on the end of the bed, bringing his foot up to untie his shoe. "You weren't plannin' on takin' a shower now, were ya?"

Louis took off his white button-up shirt, placing it on the edge of the bed. "Actually I was."

Francis narrowed his eyes and raised an eyebrow. "I was too..." he said, trailing off, and took off his shoes.

The two men stared each other down for a few seconds before breaking for the door. They momentarily got stuck in the door frame but Louis managed to get free first, quickly locking himself in the bathroom. "Looks like ya gotta wait, Francis!" Louis yelled from behind the door and laughed heartily.

"Whatever happened to 'sharing is caring', Louis?" the biker yelled back.

"I can't hear you!!! La la la la laaaa!" The black man was blatantly ignoring the other.

At this point, Francis started banging on the door. "C'mon, buddy! In times like these, we shouldn't be wasting water! Lemme in!" _I hope he doesn't actually open the door..._he thought and laughed to himself.

By this time, Zoey was already taking her shower but she could still hear them over the running water. The girl had just finished talking with Bill when she remembered she desperately needed to get clean. She sighed lightly and let the water run down her smooth skin. The shower was nice, of course; the water was warm, just how she liked it.

Zoey blushed as a thought came to her mind, something she hadn't really thought of. _I bet it'd be real nice to shower with someone._ The first person that came to mind was Bill but she really didn't think he would go as far as to shower with her. She wasn't even sure how he felt about her.

His words previously comforted the girl. Just the mere thought that he cared for her so much as to say he'd never leave her made the college girl's heart swell. Zoey was somewhat a romantic at heart yet she'd never gotten that sort of treatment even from her ex-boyfriend Jonathan whom she dated for almost 2 years. She hoped that he truly meant those words.

The brunette grabbed a nearby bath pouf and poured a dollop of melon shower gel onto the top. _He probably doesn't like me like that. Bill's so much older and...experienced._ _Why would he want me? He's probably done it tons of time and I'm still—_Zoey blushed at the thought of this. She tried to distract herself by scrubbing at her shins and thighs. As she pulled herself back up, she stood for a moment thinking. _Why wouldn't he want me? I mean, I'm pretty cute and I've got a nice body...plus I know how much some guys _love_ the prospect of a virgin._

Zoey furrowed her brows and shook her head, this time scrubbing her stomach. _What am I saying? Bill's not that kind of guy...I hope...I mean, I can see Francis acting like he liked me just to get in my pants but not Bill._

She smiled, running the pouf over her breasts. _He's too much of a gentleman to do that..._Her smile soon disappeared as she continued to think.

_But why would he want me? I'm almost forty years _younger_ than him! What the hell do we have in common?_

Zoey began to get frustrated; she didn't really like to think too much on her emotions. She'd much rather just do what she wanted without thinking of the consequences but in this situation it was just the opposite. Not only would her actions affect her but they would also affect Bill, not to mention Francis and Louis. She sighed in defeat.

_I'm over-thinking this. This isn't about commonalities or anything like that. It's about lov—_

The girl stopped herself mid-thought. The fact that she was just about to use the word 'love' scared her. She'd never been in love before, not even in her longest relationships, and to think that she could possibly be in love now in a time like this made it even worse. _It took a zombie apocalypse for me to find love...and with a man practically three times my age! What is wrong with me?!_

She wrung out the pouf roughly and replaced it on the shower hook where she found it. She wondered what would have happened if this whole infection had never happened. More than likely, she and Bill would have never met and she wouldn't even be having this problem right now.

Suddenly Zoey remembered a painful event that happened about two months prior. The girl shook lightly as a sob raked through her body. _Why did the cure have to come_ now?!_ Why couldn't it have come before—_ She stopped herself before she could remember that excruciating moment; the girl stumbled backwards slightly, hitting the shower wall, and slid down until her butt hit the moist tiled floor. Her hands came up to her face as she pulled her knees to her chest. The water continued to cascade down her reddened cheeks.

_I couldn't save them..._

**********

Louis reclined on the sofa, flipping through the channels of the small TV. Only one channel was working: channel 8 news. With a sigh he watched the weather radar. _Precipitation to the east. Nothing around here,_ he thought and turned over onto his side. He was bored to say the least since Francis had already gone to sleep. Zoey and Bill seemed to be in their prospective rooms and that left him, all alone. He wasn't really complaining though. No one was arguing. No one was cracking jokes. Everything was quiet.

"What I wouldn't give for Francis to be awake," Louis muttered to himself, hearing the creaking of wood behind him. He raised himself up and saw Bill, wandering out of his bedroom. "I didn't know you were still up."

The old man glanced over. "Can't really sleep. Gettin' a glass of water," he replied simply and wandered into the kitchen, his limp much less noticeable.

The black man listened to the glass fill with water, then the water being drunk. He watched as Bill reentered the room and sat down in the chair next to him, setting the tall glass on the coffee table. Louis noted that all the clothes that were provided for them were the same: black t-shirt and green pajama pants; the only exception was Zoey who had green shorts. It was weird seeing Bill in that outfit, much less without his hat. "Why can't _you_ sleep?" he asked, genuinely curious.

Bill shrugged, leaning back. "I dunno. Got a lot to think about, I guess." He glanced over to Louis and then propped his right leg up onto the table. "What 'bout you?"

Louis shrugged as well. "I just don't feel all that safe here, ya know? After all the shit we been through, I just can't relax."

"I don't blame ya," the veteran chuckled in reply.

"Hey Bill, if ya don't mind my asking..." Louis paused for a moment; he already felt like he was walking on eggshells with the old guy and this topic might not put him in the best of lights.

Bill looked up after taking another gulp of his water. "Yeah, go on."

Louis cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his shaved head as he sat up on the couch. "I was just wonderin'—" He stopped himself again. _I'm gonna get my ass kicked._

The war vet frowned a bit and leaned forward, getting annoyed by the analyst's hesitance. "Son, I ain't got all night, ya know."

"Sorry, sorry," Louis replied, somewhat flustered. _Oh God...I've lived a good life. I'm just gonna go for it._ "Do you like Zoey?"

Bill raised both of his eyebrows. "What?"

"D—do you like Zoey? I mean, you kinda act like it and me and Francis have been talkin' and...uh...we were just wonderin'..." Louis trailed off, feeling the heat radiating from the old man's eyes. _Oh Lord, I'm gonna die..._

Bill stared at the other man for a moment, before lowering his eyebrows. "Yeah, I like her. She's a good kid."

"That's not really what I meant." Louis frowned slightly. "I mea—"

"I _know_ what ya meant, Louis," Bill replied quickly and watched the other man shrink back into the couch. "I ain't stupid."

"I wasn't implying that you were stupid or anything, I just..." Louis felt defeated and somewhat embarrassed; he needed to fix this somehow. "I'm sorry...that was outta line."

Bill nodded gruffly. "Damn straight it was," he replied and felt around for his cigarettes. He had forgotten momentarily that he had left them on the night stand. "Besides, that's not any of yers or Francis's business." The veteran slowly stood up, leaning on the arm of the chair, and sent him a look. "Remember that next time you ladies are gossipin'."

Louis started to reply but before he got the chance, Bill was already gone. _Maybe I should head to bed, too. Hopefully Francis didn't take up the whole thing..._ he thought and drug himself upstairs for the night.

The old man listened to the other's retreating footsteps as he opened his bedroom door. He smiled lightly with satisfaction and took a step in; just as his foot hit the ground, the floor squeaked but Bill could distinctly hear another noise coming from behind him. A sick feeling grew in his stomach. _It almost sounds like...a witch!_ He turned and walked forward a little, the sound of cries growing a little louder as he approached Zoey's room. _It can't possibly be a witch..._Bill knocked on the wood door; the sobs stopped momentarily. "Zoey?...are you okay?" he asked, waiting for a reply of some kind. He didn't get one.

Slowly Bill opened her bedroom door, seeing a dim light cast on the floor. He peered inside and felt a slight relief when he saw the college girl sitting on the bed, her back turned to him. "Zoey?" he called once more, closing the door behind him.

She turned her head a little bit to glance at him, more tears flowing down her flushed cheeks. She couldn't bear to look at him, not now.

* * *

Thank you for reading! :D Review??


	5. Sola Sum

**Pairing:** Bill x Zoey with _implied_ Francis x Louis (you can read into that last pairing :P)

**Warnings:** This fan fiction contains coarse language and references to violence not suitable for younger readers.

**Other Warnings:** This fan fiction and the following chapters _may_ contain strong adult themes.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Left 4 Dead or any of the characters. My story also does not follow directly with the game (for those of you that are aware of the Crash Course campaign).

So here we are again with another chapter of the Aftermath :) I've been trying to write 2 chapters ahead of what I publish but I've been having writer's block for Chapter 6. I thought I'd be nice and go ahead and post this chapter.

Please keep in mind that my updates may not be as frequent during this month because I lack internet at home (at college now). I'll try my best to keep writing though!

Well have at it! :) Happy Holidays everyone!

* * *

_The Survivors ran out in front of the apartment complex when someone, Zoey wasn't sure who, set off a nearby car alarm. They all knew what that meant: they were coming. Upon first sight, Francis threw a pipe bomb down the road, attracting several of the Infected. The explosion was thunderous, sending a few limbs flying. All the while, Louis took on the zombies that were coming from behind the biker; he made sure no one got past his submachine gun._

_Zoey tried her best to fend off her crowd when she heard screams coming from directly behind her. She quickly turned, seeing Bill being practically crushed by all of the shrieking Infected. She let free a barrage of bullets, a few zombies falling like flies. There were so many of them that the girl didn't know if she could actually save Bill. As Zoey shot more of the horde, her eyes caught sight of something familiar; after staring for even longer, she realized what was in front of her and lowered her gun. She muttered a 'No, it can't be...' just as Francis saw her just standing there._

_"What the hell are you doin', Zoey?! Shoot!" he shouted but didn't get through to her. The biker could see Bill quickly being overpowered by the might of the many Infected. He ran over to the girl, grabbed the pipe bomb sticking out of her jacket pocket, and tossed it half a block away._

_As the horde ran toward the blinking and beeping cylinder, her eyes suddenly refocused. "No...NO!!!" Zoey ran in the direction of the pipe bomb, quickly being caught by Louis; she struggled to get free as tears flowed down her face. "Let me go! Damn it, let me go, please!" she pleaded, feeling the black man's grip grow tighter. Just as she managed to get an arm free, it happened: the pipe bomb exploded. "N-no..." Her breath shook. Zoey could feel her knees grow weak and her heart become cold._

_"Zoey?" Louis's voice flooded her ears but she didn't acknowledge this. The analyst went around to face the girl whose eyes streamed with sadness and lips trembled. _

_"Zoey, what's wrong?"_

**********

"Zoey, what's wrong?" Bill asked and hesitantly walked over to the bed. As he finally came to where she was sitting, he could tell even in the muted light that her face was streaked with tears. The old man gently sat down next to her, watching her quickly turn her head away from him. Bill frowned and reached out to touch her back, the girl pulling away upon feeling his fingertips against her black t-shirt. "C'mon, Zoey. Tell me what's botherin' ya," he pressed and sighed lightly out of his nostrils. "...I don't like seein' ya like this."

Zoey trembled as she turned her gaze to Bill whose face was wrought with worry. She looked down at her bare legs for a moment, watching goose bumps form along her skin, and then back up at him. She swallowed, trying to rid her throat of the lump that had grown there. The girl opened her mouth as if to speak but all that came was a shuddering breath. Soon another sob raked through her body, her head thrust downward as her tears fell on her thighs. "W-why couldn't—" Zoey bawled, trying to catch her breath. "Why couldn't the cure come earlier?! T—t-they'd still be here!"

Immediately Bill knew what she was crying about; her parents had died in the second pipe bomb explosion that day two months previous. No one knew at the time why she was crying and going into hysterics and even after she finally managed to say those dreaded words, no one knew what to do. How could they possibly console someone that just lost both of her parents?

The veteran scooted closer to the girl and wrapped his arm around her shoulder, feeling her lean into his side. He really didn't know what to say to her. Bill stared at Zoey as she continued to cry and rubbed her arm gently. He wanted to do something to make her feel better seeing as he couldn't think of anything comforting to say. "...'Ey, come 'ere." The old man turned sideways on the edge of the bed and when she looked up at him, he opened his arms up, motioning for her to come closer.

Instinctively Zoey turned as well and flew into his arms, burying her face into his warm shoulder. She felt him drape his arms around her body as her fingers wrapped around his soft cotton t-shirt. No matter how comforting his gesture was, she still felt incredibly heartbroken. "Why didn't I do something?!...I—I could've saved them!" she wept, clutching the old man's back tighter. "I could've saved them..."

Bill stroked the girl's back gently and rested his head against hers. He felt her shake with each breath she took, his frown growing deeper after every sob. He really did hate to see her in this sort of state and the thing that upset him the most was that there was nothing he could do about it. "Zoey...it's going to be okay."

At that statement the girl pulled away from him and stared him right in the eye, her vision blurry from all the tears. "It's going to be okay? It's going to be _okay_?! How can you say that? It's _not_ going to be okay!" Zoey keened, balling her fists. "I'm an orphan now, Bill! An _orphan_! Don't you get it? I'm _alone_!" Her hands clenched tighter as more tears flowed and her gaze turned to the side. "...I'm a-alone..."

Bill gulped lightly as he watched the girl break down once again. His heart ached for her, not only because he knew the pain of losing a parent but also because Zoey meant so much to him. It hurt him to witness the grief she suffered. "You're _not_ alone, Zoey," he said. "Ya 'ave Francis and Louis...and me." He placed his hand atop hers and rubbed it gently with his thumb. "Do ya remember the promise I made ya?" Bill watched the girl's expression soften as she nodded shallowly, her head slowly turning back in his direction. He couldn't help but smile at her hopeful stare, feeling his heart flutter softly. "I said that I would never leave ya, didn't I?" Bill noticed the corners of the teenager's mouth turning upward as he said this. "Well I meant it. Honest to God I meant it and I still do. I ain't gonna leave ya, Zoey. Ya have my word."

As soon as he finished speaking, Zoey leaned forward and draped her arms about his shoulders, holding him close. Her head leaned against his as she hugged him, experiencing the sensation of his bristly beard on her smooth cheek; she could feel Bill tense up every time she exhaled. After a while the girl realized she was blowing in his ear and she knew from past incidents that doing so resulted in very _interesting_ scenarios. She blushed a bit, turning her head so that the bridge of her nose rested against his neck.

Finally the old man hugged her back. As much as he didn't want to admit it, he rather enjoyed holding her like this. It had been a long time since he last had a woman in his arms; a part of him didn't want to let go.

"You're a very sweet man, Bill," Zoey eventually said, feeling and hearing him swallow; this made her smile more. "I'm glad you're here with me...I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Wild horses couldn't drag me away," he replied. The aged veteran stroked her hair gently and smiled down at her.

Zoey pulled away gently and looked up at him with a smirk. "I didn't know you were a Stones fan."

Bill chuckled heartily and sent her a subtle wink. "There's a lot ya don't know 'bout me."

"Oh really? Do tell."

"Uh-uh, missy. _That_ ya hafta find out on yer own," he replied, shaking his finger at her.

The girl raised an eyebrow at him. "It'd be a lot easier if you told me though," she retorted and sent him a coy stare.

"That wouldn't be nearly as fun," Bill said simply and grinned at her.

"So you're gonna make me work for it, huh?" Zoey asked, winking.

The veteran went red and cleared his throat, feeling the urge to go get his smokes from the other room. He wasn't usually a nervous person but just the way they were regarding each other made Bill uneasy; flirting was never his forte.

Zoey noticed his expression change, feeling a bit awkward herself. As much as she'd love to continue speaking with Bill, she knew that he would more than likely feel uncomfortable and she really didn't want to put him through that. "Listen, it's getting late," she finally said. "It's been a long day and I'm sure both of us could use some sleep." The girl saw him frown lightly as if he was disappointed or something of the nature. "B—but thank you for staying up and talking with me. I really appreciate it."

Bill looked over at her with a smile. "Any time," he replied and got to his feet. "Ya know where to find me if ya wanna talk again."

She watched him cross the room and after looking back once more, he left. "What just happened?" Zoey asked herself, her eyebrows furrowed as she replayed the last few minutes in her head. "Was...was he flirting with me?" She breathed out a short laugh and pulled back the bed sheets. "He's just being nice to me. Yeah, that's it..." As the girl laid on her back staring up at the dimly lit ceiling, she smiled. "I'll have to take him up on his offer, though." She turned over on her side and turned off the bedside lamp, pulling the covers up to her neck. _Maybe tomorrow..._she thought right before she fell into a much needed deep sleep.

* * *

That wasn't too bad, huh? :P Stay tuned for the next episode of Dragonba--I mean, the Aftermath...yeah. *shuts up*


	6. Never Too Late

**Pairing:** Bill x Zoey with _implied_ Francis x Louis (you can read into that last pairing :P)

**Warnings:** This fan fiction contains coarse language and references to violence not suitable for younger readers.

**Other Warnings:** This fan fiction and the following chapters _may_ contain strong adult themes.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Left 4 Dead or any of the characters. My story also does not follow directly with the game (for those of you that are aware of the Crash Course campaign).

Wow, it's been a while huh? Don't worry; I won't let this fan fiction die! I've just been super busy with school and life in general and lately I've just been inspired to work with this story again. To be truthful, I stopped writing because I had changed my mind so much that I didn't know how to end the story. Now I have somewhat of an idea, at least enough to work with, so _The Aftermath_ isn't going anywhere. It may just stagnate every once in a while....;

So without further ado, I give you another installment of _The Aftermath_.

* * *

Louis groggily tramped downstairs after taking his morning shower, a small basket of dirty clothes in his arms. He figured the others may want to wear them at some point and there was no sense in putting on garments caked with dirt, blood and who knows what else. With a sigh the analyst wandered through the kitchen to the back of the house where the washing machine was. _I should probably get Bill and Zoey's clothes too,_ he thought and unloaded the basket.

The house was quiet just as it was the previous night. The silence made Louis anxious; he was used to hearing the faint grunts and groans of the Infected and the fact that there wasn't any sort of noise other than his own footsteps unnerved him. It was no surprise though. No one was awake to make a ruckus.

His feelings were almost contradictory in this situation. A part of Louis wanted to hear and make some sounds so that there wouldn't be this eerie feeling all around him; it was _too_ quiet in his opinion. On the other hand he also didn't want to wake anyone up. He knew that in their time together no one got a night of restful sleep and he wasn't about to make anyone angry.

The floorboards moaned as he approached the bathroom, his head turning every which way to make sure no one had heard him. Louis grabbed hold of the doorknob and turned it gingerly. He heaved a sigh of relief upon hearing a light click instead of a loud one but nearly jumped out of his pants when a door squeaked open beside him. The black man spun around only to find Bill staring at him as if he were crazy. "Oh man, Bill, you scared the shit outta me!" Louis exclaimed, his hand resting over his rapidly beating heart. "What're you doin' up this early?"

The old guy smirked at the other man and closed the door behind him. "Couldn't get back to sleep so I figured I'd make some chow," Bill replied and scratched behind his ear. "Anyone else up?"

"Not as far as I know," Louis said and shrugged. "Last time I checked Francis was snoring like a freight train up in our room and I haven't heard a peep from Zoey."

Bill nodded. "Sounds about right. So what're ya doin' up, Louis?"

The younger man smiled, motioning to the bathroom. "I'm gonna do laundry. I thought you guys might like me to do yours, too," he laughed.

"Might be a good idea, son," Bill replied. "I, for one, ain't gonna wear this stuff for the entirety of our stay here." He turned in the direction of the kitchen. "Guess I better start cookin'. Hope they got somethin' good in those cabinets."

"Me too. Otherwise this little visit of ours is gonna be hell!"

The older man chuckled at the other's words and continued on his way to the kitchen, his right leg still aching slightly. As he searched through the surprisingly well stocked cabinets, Louis moseyed through with his housemates' laundry. It wasn't long before the hum of the washing machine made its way to Bill's ears; the sound didn't distract him from his task at hand as he searched for ingredients. He didn't even notice Louis standing in the kitchen behind him.

The curious analyst watched Bill, feeling his stomach grumble slightly, and pulled the basket closer to his abdomen to lessen the noise. "Whatcha makin'?"

He glanced back at Louis with a smirk. "Well if I can find everything I need, I'm gonna make pancakes," the old vet replied. "Is that okay?"

"Perfectly," Louis said, grinning and looked around. "Do you need any help?"

"Son, I can handle breakfast," said Bill as he made his way over to the other man, bypassing him for the refrigerator. He rummaged through for a few minutes before grabbing a few items, looking over at Louis again. "But if ya wanna find some plates, that'd be great."

The black man laughed a little and put the basket back in the laundry room. "I can do that."

***********

Francis sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing his rough forehead as he gazed around the room. His leather vest was still draped over the chair, his shoes laying about near the foot of the bed. He turned around slightly and looked at the disheveled bed sheets, noting Louis was not in them. _I wonder where he went,_ the biker thought momentarily before getting to his feet. A yawn came from Francis's mouth as he stretched, walking around the cramped space. "Eh, I wanna go back to bed," he said aloud and flopped down onto the bed. As he stared up at the blank ceiling, a sound floated into his ears.

The floorboards were squeaking. The squeaks were getting louder.

Just as Francis closed his eyes, the door burst open, causing the biker to shoot up in bed. His heart raced just from the sheer surprise but a sense of relief washed over him upon seeing Louis standing in the doorway. "What the hell, man? I thought I was 'bout to get ambushed!" he said with a laugh, watching the other man close the door as he entered the room.

Something seemed different about the black man; Francis couldn't quite put his finger on it. He opened his mouth to talk, knowing exactly what smartass thing he wanted to say, but the words just weren't coming out. _What the fuck? Where'd my voice go?!_ the gruff man thought, beginning to feel a little panicked. He tried once more to speak but with no avail. All the while Louis was growing closer.

Francis cleared his throat roughly, concluding his vocal chords must hate him right now, and attempted to talk. "S—shit!" He grinned, feeling proud he had beaten his throaty foe. "Finally! For a minute, I thought I lo—" His once lost words were buried under a rough kiss delivered by none other than his temporary roommate.

The white man's eyes bugged out as his lips fought against Louis's, feeling his arms grow numb. Slowly with a soft thump Francis fell onto his back and glared up at the other man. "What the fuck was that?!" he yelled and ran the back of his hand over moistened mouth.

Louis only seemed to ignore his statement. He stared Francis down, his smile cocking ever so slightly as his eyes roamed up and down the biker's body. It didn't take Louis long to pull off his shirt to reveal his rich, chocolaty skin and well-toned abs. His chest rose and fell with each breath he took as he calmly grabbed hold of white man's wrists with one hand. A look of panic washed over Francis as Louis eased his body further onto his own. "Goddammit, Louis! Get the fuck offa me before I fuckin' kill you!" he threatened through gritted teeth.

Now if there was one thing Francis knew for sure it was that he could kick the black man's ass any day of the week but for whatever reason, he couldn't even muster enough strength to free his arms. All the while the biker struggled, Louis stared lustily at the man below him, his tongue slipping along his lips. His free hand caressed the biker's grizzly cheek which caused Francis's whole body to stiffen up and the hair on his arms and neck to stand on end. "H-hey! Cut that shit out! Are you even listenin' to me?!"

The black man grinned as he leaned in as if to kiss Francis once more, but diverted at the last second. His lips were pressed gently against the biker's ear, parted lightly; his warm breath sent ever fiber of the white man's body into a frenzy. Louis breathed in just before he spoke, Francis expecting some cheesy line to be whispered out.

"I said, GET UP, dammit!"

Francis sat up in bed with a start, his eyes immediately meeting the source of the exclamation. His cheeks ran red as the black man came more clearly into view; he didn't seem too pleased. Either way the biker couldn't rid the image of Louis practically raping him against his will.

"Hello? Are you even listenin' to me?"

The white man's eyes darted up as Louis's statement sent him out of his daze. "What?"

The analyst rolled his eyes, his arms now crossed and his body leaned loosely against the doorframe. "_I said_, breakfast is ready and we should probably head down before it gets cold," he replied with a hint of exasperation in his voice. "Unless you'd rather go back to makin' out with your pillow." Louis smirked and couldn't help but laugh. "You must've been havin' one hell of a dream!"

Francis narrowed his eyes as his whole face seemed to be set ablaze. "A dream, my ass! That was a fuckin' _nightmare_!" he complained, finally managing to crawl out of the strewn about sheets. He glared at the black man. "And next time, stay out!"

Louis blushed vividly. He pieced together the whole situation, from Francis having his way with his pillow to the biker's statement about Louis staying out of his dreams, and he soon felt a familiar sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. "Y-you were dreamin' about _me_?"

"W‒what? No! No, of course not," Francis tried, his ruddy cheeks giving himself away.

"You _were_, weren't you?" the analyst said more to himself as his gaze fell to the floor, although it didn't seem as in focus as it previously was. His eyes flitted up to look at the biker, his lips drawn in a thin line. "You have some nerve, Francis!"

"Me? _You!_" Francis was now standing directly in front of the analyst, his expression mirroring the other man's. "You're the one that just barged into my dream about sleeping and then started‒" He stopped himself, vibrant memories rushing to the forefront of his mind; he wasn't sure who he wanted to punch: Louis for accusing him of lewd dream actions or himself for not being able to forget. "Goddammit, Louis, just forget I even mentioned it!"

The black man opened his mouth to speak, his finger raised to make a point, as the biker walked roughly past him, practically knocking him over. "Ah, so that's how it's gonna be?" Louis followed the other man as his anger began to boil over. "Ya just gonna walk away from the situation?"

Francis barely looked back and replied simply with, "Yeah, I am."

Louis frowned even more, all but stomping down the creaky stairs. "All the time, ya claim to like pussy and all that but what's this? Turns out the pussy is you, Francis."

"Fuck you!"

"Oh, real mature, Francis. _Real_ mature," Louis taunted and stopped at the bottom of the stairs. "Like cussing is going to win any argument."

The biker turned on his heels and gave the analyst a matter-of-fact look. "Oh, is that so? Then you shouldn't be tossin' those pussies around, huh?"

"Will you two shut the hell up?! Zoey is still sleeping!" Bill shouted from the kitchen, his voice filled with irritation.

"Who could sleep? You guys are fuckin' loud." Zoey stumbled out of her room, her hair falling out of the loose ponytail she had put it in the night before. She leveled a glare at all three of them as she made her way to the kitchen, muttering as she took her seat. "Could wake the fuckin' dead..."

Louis and Francis glanced at each other, their lips spread thinly across their features, as they joined the other two in the kitchen. All three men looked incredibly uncomfortable as the silence pervaded the room. It was Bill that finally broke the silence, clearing his throat roughly. "So, uh, I hope you kids like pancakes. Otherwise you're up shit creek without a paddle."

The biker smirked and sat back in the wooden chair. "Sounds good to me," he said, nudging Louis gently in the arm as he looked his way. "Better than eatin' out of a can any day, huh?"

"Ya got that right," Louis replied, smiling in return. He dared to look over at Zoey who looked literally like death warmed over. "Did you not sleep well last night, Zoey?" The black man immediately shrank back as her narrowed eyes met his.

She sighed lightly, scratching at her brown locks. "Not really. I kept waking up."

Bill frowned lightly as he heard this and set the stacks of pancakes in front of his fellow Survivors. "Bad dream, maybe?"

Zoey tilted her head slightly and shrugged her shoulders. "It's possible. I don't really remember what I dreamed about or anything," she said, eyeing the cup of coffee Bill sat next to his own plate. Coffee sounded good; she got to her feet and poured herself some Joe."I'm not going to worry about it. I usually can't remember half the dreams I have anyway."

"Wish I had that problem," Francis muttered as he dove into the pancakes after generously covering them with butter and syrup.

Louis grimaced in reply, staring coldly at the fluffy stack. _I gotta remember to kill him...preferably before bed. God knows what he'll dream _tonight_..._

As the college girl sat down, she noted everyone's solemn expressions. She frowned at her own reflection in the dark brown liquid. _What happened to the old Zoey? The old Zoey would never let her friends act so down in the dumps. _"Well, look at it this way. At least we _can_ dream. I don't remember having a dream once since the infection hit."

"She's got a point. No sense in frettin' over this," Bill said, taking a sip of his coffee. "We should consider ourselves lucky."

"Ah, I hate to admit it but the ol' geezer's right." Francis chuckled a bit and sent a cocky smile to the veteran. "We're alive. We're not missin' any limbs and not be all mushy, but we got each other." He wrapped his arm around Louis's shoulders, grinning cheekily.

Louis rolled his eyes as he forced the biker's arm off, treating it as though it were the infection itself. "Yeah, I guess so but it's still messed up that out of all the people in the world, I get stuck with you." He glared half-heartedly at the white man, his eyebrow cocked ever so slightly.

Francis's lips curled into a smirk. "Oh, you love me and you know it, Louis!"

"Puh-lease! Like I'd be stupid enough to love a dipshit like you. I am _so_ above this."

"Yeah, right and I'm the Queen of England." Francis turned sideways in his chair and started poking the black man in the arm. "Y'know, you're lookin' pretty stupid right now, Louis."

The analyst glared daggers at the biker and slapped his hand away. "What the hell are you implyin', ya cracker? I am _not_ gay and even if I was, it wouldn't be for you."

"They say the first stage is always denial. Ya just need to come clean with yourself, buddy. Just let the gay out."

Louis's fists were now balled. "Oh I'll show you gay!"

The two continued to argue as Bill and Zoey tried their best to not pay attention. Their bickering was seriously getting out of hand. The veteran prodded Zoey in the arm to catch her attention. He motioned to the living room as he picked up his plate and mug; the college girl nodded with a smirk and followed him out of the kitchen. Needless to say, their absence was not detected.

"I swear, I think those two really are gay for each other," Zoey said as she sat down next to Bill on the couch. She put her plate on the table and cradled her mug in her hands, blowing lightly at the liquid before taking a drink.

The old man laughed and glanced back at the other two who were still arguing. "They act like an old married couple or at least one on a quick trip to divorce court."

She giggled out of her nose as she replaced the cup on the table. "I'd have to agree with you on that, Bill. Those two are..." She thought for a moment and rolled her eyes. "_something else._"

"Yeah..." Bill sat back into the cushions and pulled his right leg up to rest next to his plate. His leg still hurt but not nearly as much the previous day.

"Does it still bother you?"

The old man glanced over with a smile and shook his head. "Nah, I'm fine. Just a dull pain is all." Bill watched her expression falter slightly. "Are...are _you_ feelin' any better?"

Zoey looked up suddenly, not realizing that her gaze had fallen to her lap; she recalled last night and their 'conversation' for lack of a better word. "...I'm not sure. I might be but I really don't know." She drummed her fingers on her thighs. "I...don't really wanna dwell on it too much."

Bill frowned at her response, crossing his arms lightly. "Just don't keep all of it pent up. That ain't good fer ya, y'know."

She smiled in reply and nodded. "I know. It just‒it just hurts to think about it sometimes. I mean, I-I didn't really get to say goodbye or anything." She felt her throat tighten as she said this and a familiar prick behind her eyes. _Oh please don't start crying now! Dammit, dammit, dammit!_ "...Of course it's a little late for that."

"Maybe not." With so few words, Bill pulled Zoey closer against him, his smile so gentle. "Back in the war, a buddy of mine lost his brother, shot right in front of 'im. Afterwards he asked me to help 'im find the guy. Of course I was a bit taken aback by the whole thing, finding a dead body and all that jazz, but then he told me. He says to me 'Bill, I know it sounds weird but I just have to say goodbye. I can't go on without sayin' goodbye to my little brother'." The veteran smiled sadly. "It's never too late to say goodbye just as long as ya say it. Otherwise you're gonna regret it the rest of yer life. Ya don't want that, do ya?"

Zoey shook her head and wiped at her eyes, having started crying while Bill was telling his story. "No, of course not...b-but what if I can't find them? What if I search for days and never find them? What then?"

"Well, you can do what I did when I found out my son died. He was in the Army like his good ol' dad and was killed overseas. Those bastards didn't bother to tell me and what was worse is that they _claimed_ that they tried to contact me. My own fuckin' family!" The old man's rage was apparent on his features as he remembered the whole fiasco until he felt Zoey flinch next to him. He was scaring her.

"So what was I supposed to do? Can't really go to a funeral that already happened, can I? Well, I went through my belongin's and found some things of 'is. A model airplane, some pictures, old baby stuff...that kinda thing." Bill frowned a bit and recalled that day, his fingers gripping the girl's arm a little tighter. "I put all that stuff into 'is old toy box and wrote a letter to my boy. I read it out loud before I put it into the box and then I buried all of it underneath the tree we used to sit under every Sunday night. Since then I've visited 'is grave in the National Cemetery and my makeshift one by that tree every year without fail." The old man sniffed lightly and cleared his throat. "So it doesn't matter if ya find 'em or not. Ya just need to let 'em know ya haven't forgotten 'em and tell 'em what ya need to say. Ya hafta let 'em go if ya wanna move on."

The girl nodded as she leaned into Bill, resting her head against his. After hearing the story about his son, she felt a torrent of emotions, all of it draining her. "I think I get what you're sayin', Bill. Maybe I'll try to find them and if I can't, I'll do what you did." Zoey sighed out of her nostrils and she looked up at him as an idea hit her. "I know this is personal and all but I was wonderin'...maybe if you don't mind the company, I could go with you when you visit your son." She blushed lightly as she thought of this. "I mean, I can tell just from your story that he's still very important to you and since you're an important person in my life, maybe I could go?" Her voice trailed off a bit as she finished her statement, feeling a bit embarrassed. _Real smooth, Zoey. Real smooth._

Much to her surprise, Bill hugged her closer and planted a light kiss on top of her head. "Only if ya promise not to laugh if I start cryin'."

Zoey smiled in reply, her cheeks tinged a lovely shade of red. "I won't, I won't. In fact I'll even bring tissues."

The veteran chuckled as he jostled the girl gently. "Then we 'ave a deal. Of course this won't be for a while so ya can hold off on buying yer hankies fer now."

"Just lemme know when it is and I'll be there, 'hankies' an' all," she said with a laugh and furrowed her brows for a moment. Another thought came to mind. "If ya don't mind my askin', what was your son's name?"

"His name _is _William Overbeck, named after yers truly. Shouldn't be too hard remember."

The brunette smiled gently and looked at the older man with fond eyes. "Who could forget a name like that?"

* * *

I hope you enjoyed Chapter 6! I would really appreciate comments and/or reviews if you've got them :) See you next time!!


	7. At Wit's End

**Pairing:**Bill x Zoey with implied Francis x Louis (you can read into that last pairing :P)

**Warnings:**This fan fiction contains coarse language and references to violence not suitable for younger readers.

**Other Warnings:**This fan fiction and the following chapters may contain strong adult themes.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Left 4 Dead or any of the characters. My story also does not follow directly with the game (for those of you that are aware of the Crash Course campaign).

Well hello everyone! Long time no see! :D I've been away at home all summer with no internet more or less so I couldn't post anything on here. But now I'm at school! So we're all good :)

Without further ado, here is another chapter of what I like to call _The Aftermath_. Enjoy.

* * *

As far as Zoey noticed, nothing too out of the ordinary happened for the first week they stayed at their short-term home apart from the first day, of course. She tried her best not to think about her parents or what happened to them, but like clockwork the thoughts and emotions would all seem to collide whenever she got a moment alone. It didn't really matter where she was or what she was previously doing; she would stop and just cry. Sometimes it wouldn't last very long, maybe a few minutes tops; other days the brunette lost track of time and felt as though her eyes had poured out a year's worth of tears. Either way, she was tired of crying and tired of feeling this way.

On what would have a been a lazy Sunday afternoon in her old life, Zoey found herself slouched on the old couch in the living room, contemplating her next plan of action. "I can't keep doing this," she muttered to herself, feeling absolutely drained from an outburst the night before. She stared up at the ceiling for a moment before closing her eyes. "This is getting out of hand..."

"My thoughts exactly."

The teen turned her head to the direction of the voice and found Francis standing beside her. He leaned forward on the back of the couch and rested his chin atop his palm. "So what's buggin' you?"

The girl sighed and looked away from him, crossing her arms loosely on her stomach. "Same old, same old."

"Parents?"

She nodded in reply, surprised that her eyes _hadn't_ started to water, and looked back up at him. Her eyes followed Francis as he walked around and sat on the other side of the couch, his body turned slightly toward her. She sat up and leaned her back against the arm rest; she felt quite awkward about being sprawled out over half the couch while the biker had just enough space for himself. "So...what about you?" Zoey asked after clearing her throat. "Somethin' on your mind?"

Francis grimaced, his frown being accentuated by his facial hair. "Yeah, you can say that..." He looked around and when he saw that no one else was nearby, he motioned for Zoey to come closer.

She gave him a funny look as if to say 'uh, what?' but still he persisted. With a sigh Zoey scooted to the middle section of the couch and raised an eyebrow at him. She smirked lightly and said, "What's with the act?"

"I just don't want the others to hear," he said in a hushed voice and looked around once more. "Good. Now what I'm about to say can't leave this room, okay?"

The brunette nodded and leaned forward to get the full effect of the secret.

"I don't know if Louis said anything to you but..." Francis stopped himself when he felt his cheeks growing hotter out of sheer embarrassment. He cleared his throat roughly. _I can't believe I'm actually gonna say this..._ "I...I keep havin' dreams about 'im."

Zoey's brows knitted together as she tried to wrap her brain around his statement. "About Louis?" she asked almost vacantly and then refocused on Francis. "What kind of dreams?"

"Like...dreams I _should_ be havin' about you...if ya get my drift..." The biker's voice trailed off as he said this, hoping that Zoey would get what he was saying without actually having to come right out with it.

"Dreams about me? What kinda dreams would you be havin' about " Her eyes widened. "Oh...oh! Oh! Oh my gosh, are you serious?" Zoey couldn't help but blush as well as she tried not to get any mental images of the pair. "But, but! I thought you were wait, are you g "

"Hey, hey, hey! Don't get any ideas! I didn't say that!" Francis said as he tried not to raise his voice. "I don't know why the hell I keep havin' these stupid dreams! I don't feel _that_ way about him...or at least I hope I don't...God! What am I saying?" He felt his whole face turn a fiery red and immediately after found it buried in his hands. "God...what am I gonna do?"

The teen rubbed his shoulder gently and smiled. "Hey, c'mon. It's not that bad," she tried. "Just because you dream something doesn't mean you feel that way or want what you dream. It's...it's just your subconscious having a party while you're snoozin'."

The biker groaned audibly and shook his head. "If this isn't somethin' I want, then why the hell do I keep havin' these fuckin' dreams? Doncha think if this whole Louis thing weren't important, the dreams would just stop?"

"Well...I guess so...but just because you have the same kinda dreams doesn't mean it's important or anything," Zoey said and frowned lightly. "Like, I used to have a recurring dream about being a man. That doesn't mean I wanna _be_ one."

Francis lifted his head out of his hands and stared at the girl before the sound of a stifled snicker escaped him. "Y you...you dreamt about bein' a man? Wow, Zoey...didn't know ya liked dick _that_ much!" Nothing could stop the biker from letting his laughter loose, not even several yells and punches from the used-to-be college girl.

"Shut up, Francis! I should say the same about you!" Zoey smirked. "Y'know, about how much you like dick. Yeah...that's right. I went there."

The biker glared at the brunette. "Fuck you."

"You wish! Oh wait, that's right...you like dick now," the girl said with a catlike grin. "I think you should redirect that insult to someone who has one."

Francis grinned as well. "I stand by my statement."

Zoey glared at him but couldn't help but smile. "Touché." She leaned against the couch and relaxed some, having tensed up from their 'heated' dispute. "Anyway...so you've been having these dreams every night?"

The man's smile sank slowly and he nodded. "And it's not even the same dream. Like, sometimes it'll start out the same but then something different will happen. I don't even have the satisfaction of at least knowin' what's next."

"Not gonna lie but that sucks, Francis," Zoey said, frowning slightly. "So what you said before...about whether or not Louis told me any of this...what's that about?"

Francis blushed and scratched his head. "Well...the first time it happened...I kinda...told him about it. N-not in detail or nothin'! Just...accidentally mentioned it is all."

"So what you're telling me is that Louis knows you had a dirty dream about him and he _still_ lets you sleep in the same bed?" The girl looked astonished as she considered this, feeling as though if it were her, she would not be so generous. "Does he know about any of the other dreams?"

"No and I don't intend for him to find out," Francis replied. "Which is why I need _you_ to keep quiet about this little powwow. The less he knows, the better."

Zoey nodded. "That's probably your best bet. Otherwise it's gonna be a lot more weird around here."

"Like it's not weird with your grave-robbing," Francis teased, poking the tip of Zoey's nose.

The girl in turn blushed quite vividly and swatted the man's hand away. "Nothing's goin' on between us," she said, laughing awkwardly as she averted her gaze. "We're...just close. That's all."

"Uh huh." Francis leaned back against the arm of the couch and crossed his arms over his chest; his grin was wide as he eyed the girl knowingly. He could see right through her. "You're not foolin' anyone, babe. You're as transparent as Louis's afro."

"...that doesn't make any sense, Francis."

The biker shrugged. "It sounded better in my head," he replied and rolled his eyes. "But you know what I mean. This little charade of yours ain't gonna last. Y'know that, right?"

Whether or not she wanted to admit it, Francis was right and no matter how many times she told herself otherwise, it wasn't going to change the fact that she had feelings for Bill. "Yeah, I know..."

"So what are ya gonna do about it?" he asked, wrinkling his nose a bit.

"Honestly? I don't know," Zoey admitted with a heavy sigh. "Normally I'm the kinda girl who's willing to chase the guy, ask him out that sort of thing, but in this situation I'd feel so stupid for even thinking about it. Y'know what I mean?"

"I think I get what you're sayin'," Francis replied.

"And on top of that, there's this whole thing with my parents and dealing with those feelings." The teen frowned more as she thought about the situation as a whole. "It's not fair..."

The biker grimaced as he watched her expression become more and more grave and reached out his hand to caress her shoulder. "Listen, kid. This ain't gonna be a cakewalk. You've gotta sort out your feelings and decide what comes first. Do you wanna deal with your feelings for Bill first or your feelings about your parents?"

Zoey heaved another sigh and propped her head against the couch. "I'd rather not deal with either of them to be honest with you but right now, I just wanna stop crying over something I had no control over."

Francis smiled slightly and patted her shoulder. "Well at least it's a start, huh?"

"Yeah, it's better than nothin'," she replied and smirked. "So what're you gonna do about this whole Louis thing?"

"Well so far this whole 'do nothing' plan has gotten me absolutely nowhere. Can't really think of any other way to deal with it other than talkin' to 'im though," Francis said. "Which I'm not exactly gonna jump at the chance to do."

"Man, you better stop dickin' around," Zoey said, her grin a little too cocky, and tried not to laugh. "Get it? Dick? Y'know, that thing you like?"

Francis pursed his lips and after sighing out his nostrils and looking Zoey up and down, he pushed her over. "Yeah, that thing you're being?"

The brunette laughed as she landed on her back and stuck her index finger up in the air. "Touché...again."

* * *

Louis wasn't sure how long he'd been standing outside just staring into the sparse horizon or even when he'd left the house. He summed it up as having too much on his mind and figured he just needed to get out for a while. He had nothing against his housemates really. There was simply an awkward feeling growing inside their tiny abode. It became very apparent as the week progressed; seeing how everyone reacted to a life without a fear of having your limbs torn off was certainly something Louis had longed to see. However, watching the others and himself somewhat changed his opinion on their whole situation.

Zoey wasn't just some college girl who watched _way_ too many horror movies and Bill wasn't the grumpy war vet who never seemed to run out of cigarettes. They, from the analyst's stand point, were a nervous couple-to-be. He had no doubts that they would get together eventually and against his own personal beliefs, he knew they would succeed. Even thinking about the ruddy blush on Bill's cheeks as he talked to her and the way she in turn giggled and twirled her ponytail like she was some high school girl was enough for Louis's inner sap to react with a very expected 'Awww'. The only part of the whole thing between them that perturbed the black man was the way that neither would admit to their feelings. He knew how they felt; he could read it on their faces. Why they couldn't he didn't know.

His other housemate was the one that troubled him, troubled him to the point of which he had to leave the house in order to think clearly. Louis knew about the dream and in the past had no problem with gay people or anything like that. It was just the fact that he had been a part of the dream that bothered him. From being around the biker, he knew that Francis wasn't gay; in fact he was anything but. _So why did he have the dream? Why me?_

Louis sighed and shoved his hands into his pants pockets. _There's no point in wondering why. He'd never tell me,_ he thought and turned back toward the little white house, his gaze upon the dirt under his feet and then on a cast shadow. He looked up and his eyes met Bill's; the older man seemed just as surprised to see Louis as he was to see him. "B-Bill! What are you doing out here?"

"I was 'bout to ask you the same question," he replied gruffly and took a long drag from his cigarette.

The analyst smiled awkwardly and shrugged his shoulders. "Just needed to get out of the house for a bit. That's all." He watched Bill take another drag and smirked. "Did you come out for some fresh air?"

The war vet chuckled, flicking his cigarette butt onto the ground. "You could say that." He motioned over to the house with his thumb and said, "The tension in there is like pea soup."

"You're tellin' me," Louis replied with a sigh. "Why else do ya think I'm out here?"

"Certainly can't be fer the same reasons I am," Bill said. He shifted his weight onto his left leg and looked over at the house. "I don't know what I'm gonna do with that girl."

Louis lowered his eyebrows slightly and walked over to the old man. "What do ya mean?"

"Well, half the time she's cryin' and the other half she's fine," Bill replied, scratching his nose. "I don't want her to think I don't care or anything. I do. She's just wearin' me out." He looked back at Louis and smiled slightly, breathing out a short laugh.

"I hear ya, Bill." Louis chuckled and crossed his arms. "She just needs time. I'm sure she'll be back to her old self soon."

"God, I hope yer right," the old man said, digging around in his jacket for his pack of cigarettes. He pulled one out and stuck it between his lips as he delved into his pockets once more. "Damn, I think I left my lighter inside." He looked at Louis plainly. "Ya got a light?"

The black man reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a light blue lighter, offering it to Bill.

"Didn't know ya smoked," Bill said after getting the cheap lighter to work and tossed it back to Louis.

"I don't. I quit a long time ago." Louis shoved the lighter back into his pocket and shrugged his shoulders. "I've thought about it though."

"Stressed out?"

"Oh yeah. If you had to live with Francis's dumb ass, wouldn't you be?"

Bill laughed heartily, nearly dropping his newly lit cigarette. "Yeah, I see yer point. I'd 'ave whipped that boy into shape by now had it been me! How exactly _do_ you put up with 'im?"

"Lots of ignoring, insults and long walks doin' nothing out here," Louis replied and smirked.

"I'm surprised ya haven't killed 'im yet," the old man said and breathed in a puff of smoke.

The analyst frowned lightly as he felt an odd sensation in his chest, something he hadn't felt before. "Yeah..." He laughed uneasily to himself. "Me too."

* * *

Thank you for reading! Please review if you can :) I would appreciate any kind of feedback but no flaming please!

Also please don't advertise your fan fiction in a review. If you want me to read something, PM please. Thanks ;)


	8. Now or Never

**Pairing:** Bill x Zoey with implied Francis x Louis (you can read into that last pairing :P)

**Warnings:** This fan fiction contains coarse language and references to violence not suitable for younger readers.

**Other Warnings:** This fan fiction and the following chapters may contain strong adult themes.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Left 4 Dead or any of the characters. My story also does not follow directly with the game (for those of you that are aware of the Crash Course campaign).

I do apologize for the extreme delay for this update. I hit a roadblock with the story and stepped away from it. However, I have adjusted the storyline and I'm back on track! I can't promise a quicker update but I _will_ finish the story. So please don't fret!

Anyway, thank you for reading this far and I hope you enjoy this new chapter!

* * *

Zoey awoke with a start, her breath hitching in her throat. She had had that dream again—the dream where she had to relive every painful detail of the day her parents died. It was bad enough that she had experienced it once but it always seemed to find its way into the forefront of her mind. Now it was in her subconscious, latched onto the very core of her being, and she couldn't shake it.

She pulled her knees up to her chest, her bed sheets falling crumpled onto the mattress, and stared off into the dimly lit room. "Why is it always like this?" she wondered aloud and turned her head to look at her alarm clock. "7:35..." With a sigh, Zoey let go of her legs and swung them over the side of the bed, slipping her feet into the government issued house shoes. Her wobbly legs led her out of her room and into the kitchen, where she found Louis pouring himself a cup of coffee and staring out the kitchen window as he sipped it. "I'm glad I'm not the only one up."

Louis's shoulders tensed upon hearing the first syllable out of her mouth and nearly choked on his coffee, setting it on the counter with a light cough. "Zoey! Oh, it's only you... You scared me," he admitted and looked the young girl over. "Did you have the dream again?"

Zoey nodded and breathed out a nervous laugh. "Yeah... It's becoming an everyday thing, I guess." She made her way over to where he was standing and helped herself to his coffee, her lips curling into a grin as she eyed him over the rim.

"Is it good?" he asked and watched her nod once more before sitting down at the table. After pouring another cup, Louis sat next to her and took another look at her face. "It's not getting any easier, is it?"

The teen cradled the mug in her hands before setting it on the tabletop. "You'd think it would," she said lightly, folding her arms on the table. "I think—I think it just bothers me a lot that I never got to say goodbye, that I couldn't save them. There was nothing I could do and I really wish there was..."

"You just have to take it one day at a time," Louis said but he knew his words truly didn't help her. He could still see the remnants of her sorrow etched into her face.

"I suppose so." Zoey took a long sip of her coffee before turning her eyes to the black man. "Bill gave me an idea not too long ago and I think I wanna do it."

"Oh? What kind of idea?"

The girl smiled gently as she stared down at her reflection in the coffee and replied, "To go find them."

Louis furrowed his brows and considered her statement. "Find them? Why would you want to find them?"

"Because," she started, a tinge of hurt in her voice, "I want to say goodbye."

"Oh, I see..." the man said more to himself and curled his lips inward as he thought. He turned his eyes to the brunette and smiled. "I think we should."

Zoey looked at Louis, her expression somewhat confused. "_We_? N-no, you guys don't have to go."

"I know, but I for one want to help you in any way that I can," Louis replied and placed his hand on her shoulder. "I care about you—we all do. Let us help you."

"You're not going to give me any other choice, are you?" the girl asked with a smirk and caught his smile as he got up to get more coffee. "Fine... But you guys better not get in the way. You hear me?"

The analyst laughed. "Yeah, I hear you," he said, his eyes following her as she sat the cup in the sink and walked back over to him. "Just don't worry. We'll make sure you get to say your goodbyes one way or another. I promise."

Zoey could feel the accustomed prick on her eyes and a lump grew in her throat. A smile formed along her lips as she wrapped her arms around the analyst, trying her best not to cry into his t-shirt. "Thank you," she managed and leaned up to kiss his cheek. "Really... Thank you."

Louis beamed, unable to hide the rosiness seeping into his cheeks, and caught her in another hug. "Anytime, kiddo," he said gently and kissed the top of her head.

The two of them remained that way for a few moments until a certain biker ambled into the kitchen to discover them. "Louis, how could you? I thought what we had was special," Francis joked, feigning hurt and jealousy.

The black man rolled his eyes and breathed a sigh out his nostrils, releasing Zoey from their embrace. "Special doesn't even begin to describe it."

"I think I'll leave you two alone..." Zoey laughed a bit before wandering off toward the living room, Louis appearing somewhat distraught about her departure. She could hear them bickering at each other as she found a spot on the couch and flipped the television on. Channel 8 was the only one still working, it seemed. She stared at the weather radar forlornly; it was the same station her dad worked for. As much as she wanted to change the channel, the brunette kept it where it was. It was nice to have background noise that _wasn't_ arguments.

"You seem deep in thought, kid. What's on yer mind?" Bill came into view and smiled gently at the college girl, taking a seat across from her.

Zoey smiled back at the older man and shrugged her shoulders. "I dunno... I'm just thinking about what I'm going to do..."

"About yer parents?"

She looked up, nodding her head shallowly. "Yeah... I think—I think I'd like to try what you suggested. You know, looking for them and all."

The war vet smiled. "That's a fine idea. And of course you know, I'll be comin' with ya. I can't leave ya wanderin' around this state in the state you're in."

"Hah, thanks, Bill. I appreciate that," Zoey replied with a slight smirk. "I'm pretty sure Louis and Francis are gonna come to. That is if they can stop fighting long enough..."

Bill laughed and shook his head. "Those two... I bet they even fight in their sleep!"

The college girl's cheeks flushed, knowing all too well what went on in Francis's head at night. She chuckled nervously and said, "Y-yeah, probably. I wouldn't put it past them." In the background they could still hear the squabbling between the two men.

The older man leaned back into chair, stretching his injured leg out and motioned over to the radio. "Well when you're ready and sure ya wanna do this, I'd get someone on the wire to pick us up. I ain't walkin', that's fer damn sure!"

"Alright, alright. If you insist," Zoey said with a giggle and started toward the machine. She stopped in front of it and turned to face Bill. "W-what if we go out there and we don't find them? Then what?"

"We'll figure somethin' out. Just keep yer mind in the present," he replied and motioned toward the radio once more. "Now go on, page the man." Bill sat up and slowly got to his feet, the ache in his leg causing him to buckle slightly. He caught his balance on the armrest and walked to the kitchen. "I'll wrangle up the troops while you do that."

The brunette watched the old man shuffle into the kitchen, his gruff voice soon drowning out the other two's voices. With a light smile, she turned her attention back to the radio. _It's now or never, Zoey. Now or never..._

"Is anyone out there?" she spoke, glancing over to the weather radar as she waited for a response from the other side.

"This is Bill. Did you guys need something?"

Zoey breathed in and out slowly for a second, fighting back the urge to vomit, and spoke into the walkie-talkie. "Yes. I'd like to request a pick-up."

"Alright, that's no problem. Where to?"

She cleared her throat, feeling her stomach churn out of anxiety. "The city. We're going to an apartment building near Mercy Hospital. Can you take us?"

"Can do. I'll be there in about forty minutes. Be ready."

Zoey smiled. "Can do."

* * *

The four Survivors sat in silence as the Humvee made its way down the road toward the apartments. The path was free of Infected, luckily, but their escort told them to be prepared to see many corpses as they neared the city. It was a slow and steady effort but with the virus taking almost all of their men, the Army could not dispose of and bury the bodies fast enough.

Zoey stared impatiently out the window, drumming her fingers on her thigh. She was nervous. She wondered if they really would be able to find them, if there was a chance they were still alive. If they were, would they remember her? She sighed and tried to push the questions out of her mind. The college girl glanced back at her companions from the front seat. She felt bad that there weren't enough seats for everyone; poor Francis had to sit in the cargo space in the very back. He didn't seem too pleased about this arrangement.

"How much more do we like? My ass hurts," the biker complained, nearly falling over as the Humvee found a pothole in the road. "Geez! Watch where yer drivin'!"

"Sorry, high traffic area. This is the shortest road to take from the safe house to the city. That's where our base of operations is at the moment," the driver explained and pointed up ahead. "We'll be in the city soon. Do you know where you need to go?"

The girl nodded and replied solemnly, "Yes. It's not far from here."

The old veteran looked at Zoey, frowning deeply. _I wonder if this _was_ such a good idea... I hope she can handle it..._

The Humvee traveled the body-littered streets, the smell of the deceased apparent in the thick air. It screeched to a halt near a chain link fence not far from the backside of the apartment complex. Zoey's heart pounded in her ears as her eyes caught sight of the familiar pile of bodies a block away.

"I'll wait here. Do what you need to do," their guide Bill said as he shut the engine off.

Zoey sat for a moment before turning around to look at her companions. "Okay. You guys stay here and I'll go check it out."

"C'mon, Zoey. You don't have to go by yourself! We're here to support you," Louis tried and smiled at the teen. "You're not alone."

The girl smiled back and shook her head. "I know...and I appreciate that." She looked away before turning around and jumping out of the Humvee. Her attention turned back to her fellow Survivors. "But this is my battle." Her throat tightened and she fought back tears. "J-just stay here..."

The waiver in her voice told the men how hurt she really was. The three looked at each other, unsure what to do as Zoey started off toward the Infected remains. "Guys, we can't let her go alone!" Louis said in a hushed voice, his eyebrows furrowed in worry.

"It's her decision," Bill reasoned and scratched at his beard. "I don't like it any more than you do..."

"Yeah but this is serious. She's gonna need someone to reel her back in if things are bad. Ya know what I mean?" Francis said gravely and turned his eyes to Bill. "C'mon, man. You need to go after her."

The old man's brow creased. "Me? Why me?"

Francis rolled his eyes and shook Bill's shoulder. "Because!" the biker growled and breathed out a sigh. "Because she needs you. Not me. Not Louis. You."

Bill swallowed hard and shook off Francis's grip. "Ya better be right," he grumbled and staggered out of the vehicle. He made his way toward Zoey whom had stopped in the middle of the street. He caught up to her just as she turned on her heels back toward the Humvee. Her cheeks were already strewn with tears.

"B-Bill? W—what are you doing?"

"I was about to ask ya the same thing," he replied and brought his hand up to wipe off her face.

More tears spilled out onto his hands as she stood with clenched fists. "I'm scared..." she barely said, her body starting to shake as she spoke.

"Hey... C'mon, Zoey. It's gonna be alright. I'm here." Bill wrapped his arms around her and held her as she cried into his chest. He ran his hand across her back in hopes to comfort her and felt her voice murmur against him. "What was that?"

She pulled away and looked up at the old man. "I said 'thank you'." Zoey smiled lightly. "I don't think I'd be able to do this without you."

He returned her smile. "It's my pleasure."

The girl breathed out a sigh and turned to look at the mound of Infected. "Okay... I think I'm ready."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah."

The two walked together toward the bodies. The stench was strong and made it hard to breathe but they persevered. Zoey gazed at the pile, searching for something familiar—anything. Finally she saw it. She knelt down near an Infected wearing a bloodstained pink cardigan atop another adorned in a torn suit.

_This is it_.

The girl mustered her strength and pulled the woman off until they were both on their backs. A sob caught in her throat and she quickly got to her feet, muttering something under her breath.

Bill stared at the girl, somewhat confused. "Are you alright?"

She murmured once more, her eyes fixated on the pair.

_Oh God, she's gone into shock..._ Bill thought and forced her to face him. "Zoey! Zoey, can you hear me?"

Her bloodshot eyes met his, her barely parted lips formed words.

The old man brought his head closer to hers. "Zoey, snap out of it."

Zoey turned her face toward his ear and uttered the same words.

"It's not them."

* * *

I hope you liked the newest chapter of _The Aftermath_! Comments or reviews? :)


	9. They're Gone

**Pairing:** Bill x Zoey with implied Francis x Louis (you can read into that last pairing :P)

**Warnings:** This fan fiction contains coarse language and references to violence not suitable for younger readers.

**Other Warnings:** This fan fiction and the following chapters may contain strong adult themes.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Left 4 Dead or any of the characters. My story also does not follow directly with the game (for those of you that are aware of the Crash Course campaign).

Once again, I apologize for the delayed chapter updates. Having a full time job does not leave me a lot of time to write on this story. Hopefully you guys enjoy it regardless and hopefully I can get back in the swing of things!

Enjoy the new chapter!

* * *

Bill stared blankly at the teen, still trying to comprehend those three words. "W-what do you mean? Are you sure?" he asked, looking past her to catch sight of the gruesome pair. He grimaced at their bloodied, deteriorating faces; they barely looked _human_ as it was.

Zoey nodded and fixated her eyes on his. "I'm positive." She glanced back at the two Infected; she believed with all her heart and soul that they were her parents. "Bill..."

"Yeah?" The veteran watched her brow crinkle with thought and brushed her bangs out of her eyes.

She smiled lightly at his gesture and breathed out a sigh. "What do I do now?"

"Well, that's up to _you_, kiddo," he said gently. "I mean, yer parents—they could still be out there somewhere. Do ya still wanna look fer 'em?"

The brunette shrugged as she started back toward the Humvee. "I don't know. A part of me does but at the same time, I'm worried that I'll never stop searching."

Bill frowned deeply, his heart aching for the girl. He didn't want her to go through what he did with his own son. "Zoey... If ya decide to keep lookin', I'll look with ya. I won't guarantee that we'll find anything good but... Well, the help's there if ya need it," he said, rubbing his hand on her back.

She smiled, a blush tingeing her cheeks. "I may take you up on that offer," the girl replied and looked up at the old man. "I guess we'll see."

"Yup."

The two finally came upon the Humvee and climbed back inside, their fellow passengers staring expectantly at them. "Well?" Francis asked gruffly.

Bill shook his head at the biker, his beard accentuating his downturned lips.

The other two men looked at one another solemnly, knowing how hurt Zoey must be. Whether she found them or not, they knew that there wasn't much they could do to help.

Zoey ignored the three of them and stared ahead at the dusty road. "Take us back to the safe house, please," she urged, not once looking at the military man to her left. She turned her head away, wanting to be alone with her thoughts. She wasn't sure what to feel.

_I should be happy it wasn't them. Right? Maybe they're alive. Maybe they're looking for me._

_No..._

The brunette rubbed her left shoulder, trying to will the pain in her chest away. She knew in her heart that they were gone; she knew it once she saw the faces of the Infected she so wanted to be them. As much as she wanted to believe that they were still out there, it just wasn't possible.

_Mama... Daddy... I'm sorry I couldn't save you..._

* * *

The air was tense in the safe house. Zoey had locked herself into her room, leaving the rest of the group to their own devices. Bill took refuge outside on the front porch, a full pack of cigarettes and his trusty lighter at his side. Meanwhile the other two sat awkwardly in the living room, trying not to look at one another.

Louis frowned anxiously, his legs and arms crossed, as he tried not to acknowledge Francis's presence. _What am I supposed to do?_ he thought, feeling his heart thump oddly in his chest. _This is Francis. Francis!_ The analyst dared to glance at the biker, the other staring intently at the weather radar on TV. _What is he thinking about, I wonder?_

The gruff man could feel Louis's eyes on him and it made him uncomfortable. He tried to find the channel 8 weather interesting but there's only so much he could take. "Would you stop fuckin' starin' at me?"

Louis blushed and looked away, pretending to have been looking at the television the entire time. "I wasn't," he replied plainly, hoping he'd buy it.

Francis turned to look at the black man, his eyebrows lowered dangerously. "Yeah, right. Ya got somethin' to say to me?" he said as he got to his feet, thrusting his arms into the air threateningly. He watched Louis twitch in his seat, obviously nervous. "That's what I thought."

Louis muttered something under his breath in annoyance and hastily headed toward the stairs.

"Where the fuck do you think you're goin'?" the biker called after him, his heavy footsteps following behind the analyst.

"Away from you!" he replied, moving faster as Francis's boots stomped loudly up the stairs. He reached for the doorknob of their shared room but before the black man could even touch it, he was yanked backwards by his other arm. Louis found himself pushed up against the wall, a rough hand on one shoulder and another next to his head on the opposite side. "Francis, you better back off..."

"Or what? You don't have the balls to do shit, Louis," Francis said fiercely, his face only inches away from the other. "You're always runnin' off with yer tail between yer legs. Face it; you're a coward."

Louis glared gravely at the biker. "And you're a bully. All you do is bitch and moan and take it out on me. What did I ever do to you?"

"Oh, you've done plenty," he replied through gritted teeth.

"Yeah? Care to go into detail or is that asking too much from that little pea brain of yours?" the analyst egged on, smirking as he watched the white man's face turn red with rage.

A low growl seeped its way past the biker's lips. "What did you say to me, _boy_?"

"Boy? _Boy_? Oh, no you _didn't_ just call me 'boy'!" Louis's face twisted with rage as he grabbed a hold of Francis's vest and head-butted him. He ignored the pain in his forehead and scrambled for the door, the other man dazed momentarily from the blow.

"Mother fucker!" Francis spat out and chased after the black man. "You get back here!" He lunged at Louis, swinging his fists wildly into the analyst's chest and stomach.

Louis fell backwards onto the bed and kicked the biker square in the jaw sooner than the other could react. He quickly got up, wrapped his arm around Francis's neck and tried to choke him out. "Hey, Francis, I got somethin' to say," he practically growled in the biker's ear. "If you ever and I mean _ever_ call me 'boy' again, I will fucking end you. You got that?"

Francis nodded his head as best as he could, earning a release from the arm that once threatened his wellbeing. He gasped for air, clutching his throat. He shakily found the bed and sat down, his body aching from their short skirmish. The white man eyed Louis warily as he sat down next to him, rubbing his shaved head where it made contact with Francis's. "Your head hurtin' too?" he said finally, smirking somewhat.

Louis breathed out a laugh. "Ah, yeah. I knew you were hard-headed but geez..."

The biker snickered and offered his hand to the analyst. "You put up a good fight."

"Yeah, you too," Louis replied and shook the proffered hand. "I'm glad we got that out of our systems..."

Francis fell back on the bed with a light thump and sighed. "Me too. I feel tons better now," he said and rubbed his jaw. "Well not physically but ya know what I mean."

Louis grinned. "I hear ya. I'm gonna have so many bruises later," he replied, rubbing his sore chest. "I'm probably gonna have a big purple knot on my forehead."

"That's gonna be real purdy," said the biker through half-lidded eyes and giggled.

The analyst rolled his eyes and smacked him in the face with a nearby pillow.

"Dude, watch it! Remember? You kinda kicked me _in the face_," Francis half-whined, earning an apologetic look from Louis.

"Sorry, man. Heat of the moment," he said, noticeably embarrassed by his own behavior. "Want me to get you some ice?"

Francis shrugged. "Nah, you don't have to—I'll just get some later," he said and folded his arms under his head. "Right now, though, I just don't wanna get up. My ass got whupped and I'm tired!"

Louis laughed as he stood up. "Well alright then. I'll leave you to get some shuteye," he replied and headed for the door. "Have a nice nap, _Franny_."

The biker scrunched up his face at the nickname. "See ya later, _Lulu_."

* * *

The war veteran let out a sigh, gray smoke wafting from his lips, and took another drag of his cigarette. "What am I gonna do with her?" he muttered to himself as he looked out to the barren horizon.

Bill wasn't sure what to do at this point. He figured that those Infected really were her parents and that he would console her once she saw them again. He never thought that there was even the slightest possibility it would be a mistake. How could it be? How could such a random event that had hurt his comrade so much be wrong?

A creaking of the wood behind him and the screen door slamming shut brought him out of his reflections and he turned to see Zoey standing there timidly. "Hey, kiddo."

"Hi," she replied softly and took a seat next to him on the front steps.

The old man cleared his throat before taking another drag on his cigarette. "Is everything alright?" he asked hesitantly, not convinced that he wanted to hear the answer.

"Yeah," Zoey said simply, hugging her knees. She let out a sigh and turned her head to look at him. "They're gone, Bill."

That statement caught him off guard and he gazed at her tentatively. "Gone? I thought you were gonna look fer 'em."

She shook her head, turning her attention back to the ground. "No... I _know_ they're gone, Bill," she replied and laughed softly. "You would think that my mistake would make me realize the likelihood of them being out there but really... Really, I know with my _heart_ that they're gone." The college girl shook her head once more and clutched her chest.

"Zoey..." Bill murmured and wrapped his arm about her shoulder.

"It's okay. I've come to terms with it." Zoey wrapped her fingers around the fabric of her jeans. "When we're finally able to leave, I'm gonna find a way to honor them, Bill."

The veteran smiled and gave her shoulder a little squeeze. "I'm sure they'd love that, Zoey."

The girl turned her eyes to the old man, smiling up at him. "Thanks," she replied gently. "I came up with an idea while I was in my room. Would you like to hear it?"

"Sure," said Bill and smiled at the sudden glow in her cheeks.

"Well remember how I said I'd do like you did for your son for my parents if I didn't find them?" Zoey thought fondly of the idea for a moment. "I'd like to try that."

"That's a fine idea, Zoey. If ya still need help, I'd be more than willin' to lend a hand," Bill said and flicked the cigarette he'd been ignoring away.

Zoey nodded and gave him a quick hug. "I'd appreciate it," she said with a nervous giggle. She cleared her throat and laced her fingers together. "My mom still has the hope chest from when they were still married so I may just add a few things to it before we bury it."

"Oh, they were divorced?" he asked carefully, trying to gauge her reaction as best as he could.

"Well, _separated_ but they were working things out," she replied with a forlorn smile. "My mom told my dad that she couldn't be with him so long as he was on the force. It scared her too much." Zoey looked down at her feet in thought. "Then one day he was injured on the job. They told him that he was lucky to be alive. Then my mom begged my dad to quit...so he did. He wanted us to be a family again." She grinned and looked back over at Bill.

The veteran returned her smile. "I'm glad things worked out before all this happened," he said and pulled her closer. "I'll do my best to help ya honor 'em. Okay, kiddo?"

Zoey leaned up and kissed his cheek, both of their faces turning a rosy pink color. She giggled nervously and got to her feet. "Thanks, Bill," she replied and opened the screen door, heading back inside their warm temporary home.

Bill brought his hand up and felt the spot where her lips caressed his skin. "Ya still got it, old boy," he murmured to himself with a smirk. "Ya still got it."

* * *

I hope you enjoyed reading the new chapter!

**Review**? :)


	10. The Warmth

**Pairing:** Bill x Zoey with a smattering of Louis x Francis

**Warnings:** This fan fiction contains coarse language and references to violence not suitable for younger readers.

**Other Warnings:** This fan fiction and the following chapters may contain strong adult themes.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Left 4 Dead or any of the characters. My story also does not follow directly with the game (for those of you that are aware of the Crash Course campaign).

Well lookie here! I'm posting another chapter and it's not months later! Go figure! Haha :)

I'm having a lot more fun writing this story nowadays. Perhaps I'm feeling creative or maybe I just need closure. I'm not sure what. Either way, I won't let this die and I intend to finish!

So please enjoy chapter 10 of _The Aftermath_!

* * *

Louis smiled in his sleep, enjoying the warmth of the comforter and the rays of light streaming in through the bedroom window. His eyes gradually opened, dry and disappointed at the prospect of the new day. _Maybe just five more minutes,_ he thought and snuggled back into the blankets. He moved his arm to get more comfortable and brushed against something unfamiliar. His brow furrowed as he lifted the blanket and cautiously looked down—it was Francis's arm.

The analyst's eyes widened. "What the...?" he barely said and glanced behind him, seeing the biker snoring quietly on their shared pillow. A sick feeling washed over him, his skin growing clammy and his cheeks flushed bright red.

_This is getting serious,_ he thought and swallowed the lump in his throat. He moved to get out of bed but the white man's arm just pulled him back in. Louis blushed more as the biker snuggled closer, his head resting against his back. He felt that odd sensation again, the one he had felt when he had previously talked to Bill about Francis.

_What's going on with me? This is Francis..._

The sensation grew, warming his chest and stomach. He exhaled a shuddering breath and swallowed again. _I can't do this... This _isn't_ happening!_ Louis slipped out of bed and stared in panic at the sight of Francis before frantically sprinting out of the room.

The door closed a little louder than he intended, causing the biker to stir awake. "Hmm?" Francis groggily looked around and shrugged it off. He turned over and fell back asleep in the middle of their shared bed.

Louis ran down the stairs, almost slipping on the last step and headed straight for the kitchen. "I need water," he murmured, hoping the cool liquid would calm him somehow. He poured himself a glass and sat down at the kitchen table. "I shouldn't be feeling this way..."

"What way?"

The black man looked up at the sound of Zoey's voice. "Ah, um... It's nothing," he muttered and looked away, taking a swig of his water.

Zoey frowned and sat down across from him, crossing her arms. "I call bullshit. Now spill it."

Louis mimicked her grimace and shook his head. "I'd rather not talk about it." He paused momentarily. "It's personal."

"Uh huh..." She rolled her eyes and unfolded her arms. "Listen, I just wanna help. You've helped me with my problems so I'd like to return the favor." She watched him fidget in his chair. "C'mon, it can't be that bad."

The analyst smiled back at the girl and let out a sigh. "But it is," Louis said with a light chuckle and shook his head. He rested his forehead in his hand while he drummed his other fingers on the table, and then moved his hand down to cup his chin in thought. "Okay, do you promise not to say a word about this?" he asked, both hands now flush against the table.

Zoey was surprised by his serious tone; something seemed a bit familiar about this situation. Still she leaned forward. "You have my word."

Louis looked around, breathing out a sigh loudly. "Okay, I... I-I think I—" He swallowed dryly. "What I mean to say is that...that I think I—" He glanced up, seeing Francis amble into the kitchen, his face turning bright. "Want waffles! Yes! I would like waffles for breakfast, Zoey. Thank you for asking," he said, tripping over his words. He took a gulp of his water and backed his chair out roughly. "I-I gotta use the bathroom. 'Cuse me..."

The brunette watched him exit the room, her mouth somewhat agape, and turned her attention to the biker, who was fiddling with the coffee maker. "You have the absolute worst timing, ya know that?"

He looked up and furrowed his brows in confusion. "Did I miss somethin'?"

Zoey sighed in exasperation. "He was gonna tell me something and then you came in here and interrupted us," she complained.

Francis gave her a look and leaned on the counter. "Well _excuse me_ for being thirsty," he retorted, annoyed at her accusation.

"Sorry... He just seemed really upset and I wanted to know what was going on," she said and glanced out the window. She turned her attention back to him. "You guys didn't get in a fight or anything, did you?"

He chuckled at the question. "Yeah, you could say that," he replied and turned his face to where she could see his swollen jaw.

Zoey gasped and immediately stood up, her chair nearly toppling over. "What the hell happened to your face?"

"Louis happened, that's what." Francis rubbed the sore spot as the coffee began to slowly filter into the pot. "We got into a stupid fight. It was over nothing really... I guess we were both on edge." He shrugged and got himself and Zoey a coffee mug. "This is from him kicking me in the face," he said, pointing at his bruised cheek.

The girl giggled somewhat, sitting back down. "Dang... He got you good," she said and looked at the spot where Louis had been sitting. "But...you don't think that's what's bothering him?"

The biker shrugged. "There's no tellin' with him." He poured two cups of coffee and sat down at the table, passing one to the brunette. "He doesn't tell me squat."

Zoey pursed her lips into a straight line, considering his words before taking a sip of the bitter brew. "Well he told me it was personal... And before that, he said something about 'not feeling this way'..." She thought more, her eyes slowly widening. "He left the room pretty quickly, didn't he?"

Francis shrugged and took a sip of the coffee. "Yeah, I guess. What does that hafta do with anything?"

"Think about it! He was about to tell me when you came into the room," she said, somewhat excited about the conclusion she was reaching. "Then he changed the subject and left!"

"So? If it's supposed to be a secret, he probably did that 'cause he didn't want another person to know," the man countered, sneering a bit.

"No, Francis, you're not getting it," Zoey responded, growing annoyed with him. "He did that because it was you!"

Francis scrunched up his face, trying to wrap his brain around what she was saying. "Okay? Well doncha think he would've acted that way if it was Bill instead of me?"

She let out another frustrated sigh. "No, I don't," she said, pinching the bridge of her nose. "You are so dense sometimes, Francis."

"Well my bad," he answered and rolled his eyes, drinking more of his coffee. "I can't help that you're speakin' in riddles over here."

Zoey shook her head. "Fine, I'll just say it: I think that Louis has feelings for you."

Francis choked on his coffee, sending him into a coughing fit. "You... You can't...be s-serious," he said between coughs and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "You're outta yer mind, kid."

"No, really! It makes sense! It explains why he's always so guarded with you and picks fights with you," the brunette tried. "He's trying to hide his feelings for you!"

The biker laughed. "Zoey, you're reading _way_ too far into this. Louis doesn't like me," he said and stood up. "We just butt heads. We probably just have clashing astrological signs or some shit like that." He went over to the cabinet and grabbed some flour and baking powder. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have some waffles to make, sweet cheeks."

Zoey shook her head and headed to the living room. _He's so in denial,_ she thought to herself with a laugh. _But at least I don't have to cook breakfast._

Francis mixed together the ingredients for the waffles, staring at the bowl of batter intently. _She's seriously lost it,_ he thought and grabbed the cooking spray. _We're both guys here. There's no way that Louis likes _me_ of all people._ He breathed out a short sigh and poured the batter into the waffle iron.

"Whatcha makin'? It smells good."

The biker smirked at the sound of Louis's voice. "Waffles. That's what you said you wanted, right?"

Louis smiled. "Yeah. I didn't think you were paying any attention to what I said though," he admitted and sat back down at the table, turning around in his seat to look at Francis.

"Well it's hard to ignore you shouting 'waffles' through the whole house," he retorted with a laugh and grabbed a plate from the cabinet. "Now I don't think we have any bananas but I'm almost positive we have peanut butter. Is that gonna be okay?"

The black man stared at the biker in astonishment. "How did you know how I like my waffles?"

Francis laughed again. "Ya don't remember? You and I had a long, _long_ conversation about chicken and waffles and how yer Memaw made 'the best' ones in all of Pennsylvania," he said, bending his fingers in air quotes as he talked.

Louis's jaw dropped somewhat. "Francis... I'm really impressed," he replied, still shocked by his tough comrade's memory.

"See? I do listen sometimes." He smiled cheekily and moved the waffles onto the platter. He poured more batter into the iron, put two waffles onto a plate and grabbed the peanut butter from the cabinet. "Your breakfast, my liege," the white man said dramatically and sat the food in front of Louis with a bow.

The analyst breathed out a chuckle and smiled. "You really are somethin' else, Francis." He stared down at his plate, feeling the warm sensation return to his chest.

_Okay... This might not be so bad..._

* * *

After a much needed shower and a plate full of waffles, Bill found himself lounging in the living room. From the weather radar, it looked like they were in for some hard rain. He frowned, rubbing his knee. "Great. Now I _really_ feel like an old man," he muttered, cursing the moisture in the air under his breath.

Zoey giggled at the sight, Bill not having noticed her yet. She leaned forward on the back of the couch, resting her head in her hand and said, "You're not _that_ old."

The veteran looked over and snorted at her comment. "I'm old enough to know yer butterin' me up fer somethin'."

"Am I that transparent?" she said, feigning a whine. She came around and sat in the chair next to Bill. "Well Billy—y'know the guy that brought us here?"

"Yeah. Lieutenant Bedford. Go on," he corrected her, a little on edge with her familiarity with him.

She blushed and continued. "Right. Well he brought some stuff over this morning." Zoey got up and brought the box over to him. "See? It's a bunch of movies. I already set up the DVD player and everything," she said, beaming, and giggled nervously. "I was hopin' we could watch one of 'em later tonight... If you'd like, that is."

Bill smiled and rifled through the box. "That sounds fine to me," he said, glancing at the titles. "I'll let ya pick whichever one ya want."

Zoey bit her lip in thought and leaned forward to look in the box. "So many of them sound good," she murmured, not noticing that Bill was transfixed with her cleavage.

_Did they _have _to give her such a low-cut top? Geez... _He cleared his throat and finally looked away. "How about this one," he said as he picked up a copy of Fight Club.

"Oh, good choice!" she exclaimed and took the movie from his hands. "I haven't seen this in ages!"

The old man smirked. "Well that's done then," he said and settled back into his chair. "When are we watchin' this?"

"I was thinking after dinner, maybe," she replied as she placed the box next to the television again. "The guys seemed to like the idea anyway."

Bill frowned briefly; he was somewhat disappointed because he had assumed it would be just the two of them. "That's fine," he responded gruffly.

Zoey stiffened at his tone. _What's with the 'tude?_ she wondered but decided not to press the issue. "Well I'm glad we're all on the same page, here," she said with a half smile and sat the movie on the coffee table. "I guess I'll go take my shower now." She started toward the downstairs bathroom when she remembered something from earlier. "Hey, before I forget, Billy—er, _Lieutenant Bedford_ said he wanted to talk to you about something but you were still in the shower."

The veteran lowered his brows in thought. "Huh. What did he want?"

The brunette shrugged. "I dunno. He said he'd just get with you another time," she replied, shifting her weight. "It seemed important though. Maybe you should radio him."

Bill pursed his lips and nodded. "Thanks. I may do that."

Zoey smiled lightly and made her way to the bathroom, leaving the war vet alone in the living room once more.

"I wonder what he wanted," he murmured to himself and ambled over to the radio, picking up the walkie-talkie. "Lieutenant Bedford, come in. Over."

"This is Bill. What can I do for you?"

The old man frowned at the lack of formality in his voice. "My comrade said that ya wanted to speak to me about something."

"Ah, yes. I have something for you. I'll be there in a little bit to discuss the details."

"Alright. Roger that." Bill replaced the walkie-talkie and sat down on the couch. "Something for me?" he wondered aloud and scratched at his beard. "I almost hate to think what it could be..."

Half an hour went by as the ex-Green Beret waited for the arrival of the lieutenant, his arms crossed and his head resting against the back of the couch. His eyes were closed in thought; he was still trying to figure out what sort of 'gift' could be coming for him. A knock on the screen door caught his attention and brought him back to reality. "Finally," he muttered to himself and opened the door.

There stood Lieutenant Bill Bedford, one arm poised in a salute and the other holding a box at his side. "Hello, sir. May I come in?"

Bill saluted him back and stepped aside, allowing the soldier to enter the living room.

"You must be wondering why I'm here."

"Yeah, I admit I _am_ a bit curious," the older man said as he took a seat in his usual chair.

The lieutenant sat across from him on the couch and placed the box on the coffee table. "The items in this box belong to you," he began and laced his fingers together as he leaned forward, "in a sense, sir." He cleared his throat. "I was stationed in Iraq with your son, Will. He and I were really good friends from the get-go and we promised each other that no matter what, we'd have each other's back. That's why I'm here, sir."

Bill's eyes widened as he listened to the younger man, his throat growing dry.

"I'm incredibly lucky that I was able to find you," the lieutenant said with a sad smile and continued. "Your son is my hero, Bill. He saved my life..."

"He did...?" the veteran asked hollowly, still trying to take in all the information.

"Yes. We were ambushed while we were travelling between cities. Our Humvee was practically blown off the road and they just came out of nowhere..." Bedford replied, his lips pursed in a straight line. "Two of our men immediately went down and I was poised to be the third. Then Will just started shooting. He made sure the rest of us got out from the wreckage safely but... It was too late for him." The soldier hung his head. "He was a good man and he sacrificed himself for us. I owe him my life."

Bill stared blankly at the floor, tears falling from his aging eyes, and he sniffled a few times. He was trying so hard not to break down more than he was.

"Bill, your son loved and respected you so much. You have no idea how much he talked about you and went on and on about what a hero you were to him," the lieutenant said, trying to lift the gloom from the old man.

"And now, I can do the same," he said in reply, a smile spreading across his ruddy face. "I had no idea he had it in 'im." Bill laughed to himself. "He used to be afraid of everything! The dark, bugs, dogs—ya name it." He wiped a stray tear away and looked away. "I taught 'im to be brave, to look fear in the face and laugh. He surpassed every hope I ever had for 'im and now I can see 'im as a man, not just my little boy," he said, his voice breaking. "Thank you, Billy."

The younger man smiled and placed a hand reassuringly on his shoulder. "It's my pleasure, sir." He got to his feet upon hearing thunder in the distance. "I should probably get going. I hear this storm is supposed to be a doozy."

Bill stood as well. "Well let me walk ya to the door," he said with a smile. "I appreciate ya comin' by. It means a lot to know my boy did good." Lieutenant Bedford offered him his hand but instead Bill caught the tall soldier in a hug. "Keep in touch, kid."

"I will, sir," he replied and saluted the veteran once more before leaving for his Humvee.

The old man watched him drive away and then closed the door, turning his attention back to the box. "I wonder what that boy could've left me..." He pulled his pocket knife out and pierced through the packing tape. He lifted the flaps to reveal a few personal belongings, pulling each one out, so that all the medals, dog tags, photographs, and old letters lined the coffee table.

"What's all this stuff?" Zoey asked as she entered the living room once more, now fully dressed and freshly groomed.

Bill looked over at her with a grin. "It's my boy's stuff," he said proudly.

"Oh, so that's what the lieutenant wanted? How cool," she replied and sat down on the floor next to Bill, looking over every item. "Hey, this is addressed to you." The girl picked up an unopened envelope and handed it to him.

The old man stared at it incredulously. "Huh, I didn't see this one..." he muttered as he gingerly opened the letter. A single piece of stationary was inside.

_Dear Dad,_

_If you're reading this, then that means I must've died in combat overseas. Please don't be sad, okay? I worked too damn hard protecting our country to let you turn into a ball of mush. If I can be brave, so can you._

_Inside this box are some of my best things and I want you to have them. Don't let Mom get hold of them. They're for you. As much I love her, she's honestly got nothing on you. You made me into the man I am today, or was rather, and I have you alone to thank for that. You taught me to brave, Dad. I didn't learn it from all the times you took my nightlight away or showed me bugs in jars to get me used to them. It was during your divorce from Mom that I saw you the bravest I'd ever seen. You had so much taken from you and even after all that stuff with her happened, you still kept going. I was so proud of you and I still am. You are the strongest person I know and you're the whole reason I joined the Army in the first place. I wanted to be just like my old man._

_I'm sorry that I wasn't able to live longer than I did but I'm sure I died doing something for my country. That's what matters, right?_

_I hope that these items can bring you some joy and maybe someday you can share them with someone special. I know you've still got it in you!_

_Please tell Mom that I love her and that I can't wait to see you guys again. Take care, Dad._

_I love you._

_Your son,_

_Will_

Bill set the letter down on the table and sniffled. He removed his beret, hung his head and began to sob. His whole body shook, as he was finally able to let his grief out.

Zoey, who had been reading over his shoulder, leaned over and held him, tears welling in her own eyes. She had never seen him so emotional in the short time that she had known him and it hurt her to see him this way. He really _had_ been brave.

They stayed like this for a while until the last sob raked through the veteran's body. He sniffed loudly and groaned. "Ugh, this is why I don't cry," Bill said nasally and reached for the box of tissues on the side table.

The brunette giggled and sat back down at his feet. "But do you feel better?"

"I guess," he replied after blowing his nose. He tossed the tissues into the trashcan under the little table and cleared his throat. "I'm sorry ya had to see me like that."

She smiled, shook her head and placed a hand on his knee. "It's okay. You've seen me cry plenty of times."

Bill smirked. "Yeah, I guess I 'ave..." he said, earning a pseudo irritated pout from the teen. He reached out and placed his hand on the back of her neck, rubbing his thumb against her skin. The old man leaned forward and kissed the top of her head with a smile, a bright blush spreading across her face in return. "Thanks fer sharing this with me, Zoey," he said as he retracted his hand and placed it atop hers. "You're a real special lady."

She blushed more and smiled. "Thank you, Bill. That means a lot coming from you."

He beamed as he gazed into her eyes, feeling warmth wash over his whole body. The warmth was coming from her eyes and he knew immediately what it was.

It was love.

* * *

I hope this new addition to the story was enjoyable!

Thank you everyone for reading up to this point. You guys are real troopers! :)

See you next chapter!

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	11. Losing You

**Pairing:** Bill x Zoey with a smattering of Louis x Francis

**Warnings:** This fan fiction contains coarse language and references to violence not suitable for younger readers.

**Other Warnings:** This fan fiction and the following chapters may contain strong adult themes.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Left 4 Dead or any of the characters. My story also does not follow directly with the game (for those of you that are aware of the Crash Course campaign).

Sorry for being so lame with updating this story. I've been working on other ones simultaneously and trying to get some paintings done, too. *wipes brow*

Just as a forewarning, this chapter is a bit Louis/Francis-centric. I know, I know. It's a Bill/Zoey fic but this was an issue I needed to resolve before I could move forward with the story. *shrug*

Anyway I hope you guys enjoy this new chapter! Let me know what you think! :)

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Zoey sat idly on the couch, picking at the hem of her tank top, and stared off into space. The room was markedly darker than it had been earlier in the day when Lieutenant Bedford had visited; much of the sunlight was blocked by the thick clouds overhead. With a sigh she settled further into the arm of the couch and leaned her head against her palm. _Man, I didn't wanna deal with all this at once_, she considered, biting at her lip. Her pale cheeks flushed hotly as she recalled the moment she shared with Bill. _The way he looked into my eyes... I thought for sure he was gonna kiss me..._ The brunette shook her head to try to rid herself of those thoughts, deeming them as delusions of her anxiety, and rolled over onto her back. She stared at the tiled ceiling, her eyes following the movement of the slow-moving fan.

"This is too much," Zoey complained to herself and shut her eyes. Instead of the speckled reddish tint of the inside of her eyelids, she was greeted by the image of the disfigured Infected she once thought were her own. Her eyes shot open once more, a frown marring her features. _There's no point in crying over that_ _anymore_, she thought with a sigh and before she could think further on the matter, the analyst walked into the room.

"Mind if I sit here?" he asked, motioning to the cushion not occupied by her feet.

The college girl sat up, flashing the black man a smile as he sat down at the opposite end of the couch. She pulled her legs into a crisscross and eyed him intently.

Louis glanced at her nervously. "Yes?"

"I think I know what's bothering you," she replied, leaning forward on her elbows.

He raised a brow and turned his body toward hers. "Oh, you do, do you?"

The brunette moved over to the cushion closest to Louis's and got back into her cross-legged stance. "Yeah and I'd like to know if I'm right," she replied, grinning at the analyst's intrigue. "You'll tell me if I'm right, won't you?"

Louis's lips straightened into a line as he considered her words and reluctantly nodded his head. "If you're right though, you can't tell anyone. Ya got that?"

Zoey nodded her head as well, pretending to zip up her lips, but quickly broke her serious facade with a wicked grin. She sat up slightly to look around the room, making sure the other two were nowhere in sight, and eagerly looked back to Louis. "You like Francis, don't you?"

The blush on the black man's face gave away the answer far sooner than his mouth did as he barely answered back, "I-I think so." He hung his head and held his face in his hands. "I can't believe this is happening to me, Zoey."

"You're not the only one," the girl murmured and reached out to touch his knee, "but it's okay. We've all seen some fucked-up shit these past few weeks and honestly...I kinda saw it coming."

Louis looked up at her words, his eyebrows dipped lowly into his lashes. "What do you mean you saw it coming?" he asked, watching her fidget under his gaze.

She laughed nervously. "Well you guys already acted like an old married couple," she replied and looked down at the couch cushion as if it were the most interesting thing in the world. "I mean, the stress was getting to everyone and we've been through so much together. It doesn't really surprise me that we've, well...paired off."

Louis breathed a sigh out of his nostrils. "So just because we argue, automatically we're supposed to get together? Is that how it works?"

"No!" Zoey glared at the analyst through her bangs and turned her eyes off to the side. "All I'm saying is that it kinda makes sense to me," she said, the tone of her voice indignant.

"Look, I'm sorry for snapping at you," the black man tried, shaking his head as he smiled bitterly. "This is just hard for me and I shouldn't be mad at you, especially since you're trying to help." He caught sight of a trace of a smile on the girl's face, causing his features to relax and soften.

"It's okay. We're all still majorly on edge after everything that's happened," she conceded with a smirk. "So... Are you ever gonna tell him? Y'know, how you feel and everything?"

"That part I don't know," Louis answered with a shrug. "I want to clear the air between us but I don't know if this is real or not. I mean—I like Francis but I don't know how he feels about me a-and I certainly don't know how things are gonna work out after the world goes back to normal." He ran a hand over his bald scalp. "What if—w-what if we pursue this..._thing_ and it all just falls apart? Then what? Then I'll lose someone I care about." His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed dryly. "I'll lose my best friend..."

Zoey's lips pursed at his outlook, some of her own worries reflected through his. "I know. I know exactly what you mean," she spoke softly, "but the 'what ifs' don't matter. What matters is the here and now. We don't know if the world out there is really safe anymore and we've all seen Hell. We've already met the Devil. So why not embrace what we have?" She stared earnestly into Louis's brown eyes. "Is it really that bad, Louis? Is it? Is it that bad to love someone who knows your journey better than anyone else 'cause they were there beside you the whole time? Is it that bad to want them with you always 'cause it would hurt worse than anything else to lose them? Tell me, Louis—is it?"

"No... It's not," he replied after a moment, allowing her words to fully sink in before answering. "It's not a bad thing but it doesn't mean I'm any less worried."

"I understand," she said gently and leaned against the back of the couch. "I really don't blame you. I mean, if you say something to him about this, you're gonna alter your relationship with him forever."

Louis eyed her wearily. "Not helping."

"Sorry," she replied with a nervous laugh. Zoey let out a sigh and stared off into the couch cushions. "I can't believe how fast everything has changed in the last few months." Her eyes darted back up to the black man. "Y'know, almost four months ago, I was sitting in my dorm room, watching old slasher flicks and just about failing all my classes. I was on the verge of quitting school and all I could think about was how I couldn't 'cause my parents would be disappointed in me. Now look at me." She breathed out a resentful laugh. "I kicked zombie ass and made some killer new friends and I can't even brag about it to them. I-I can't even—" A sob caught in her throat as warm tears dropped from her eyes, her hand coming up to cover her mouth in surprise.

Louis reached his hand out to console her but she waved him away, laughing tensely as she wiped at her eyes. "I'm sorry... I don't know what came over me."

"Zoey, it's okay to cry. I won't think any less of you if you do," the black man said fretfully, his brows furrowed.

"No, I'm fine—really," she replied, shaking her head. "I think everything is just getting to me. I'm gonna go lie down." Zoey got to her feet and grabbed hold of Louis's hand, giving it a squeeze with a smile. "Do what you feel is right and everything will work out just fine." After earning a grin from her friend, she continued toward her bedroom.

Brown eyes watched the young girl leave the room and settled upon the back of the black man's head. Breathing out a sigh through his nostrils, Francis continued down the stairs, a wooden creak giving away his presence.

"F-Francis! How long have you been there?" Louis asked nervously, trying to gauge the gruff man's reaction carefully.

"Like two seconds. I just came downstairs," he replied with a roll of the eyes. "Hey listen, I wanted to talk to you about somethin'. Mind if we have this powwow in our room?"

The analyst swallowed hard and tried to play off his nerves to the best of his ability. "Yeah sure," he managed and got to his feet, barely looking at the white man. He trudged behind the biker solemnly, not entirely sure he wanted to know what Francis had to say. _This can't be good_, Louis thought, a grimace forming along his lips. _I bet he heard our whole conversation and now he's gonna kick my ass._ His eyes flitted back up as the two reached their shared bedroom, following behind his comrade. "So what is it you wanted to talk about?"

"Sit down," Francis said with a sigh and motioned to the bed.

Louis gulped lightly as he took a seat on the end of the bed and prepared himself for the worst. _This is it. He's gonna tell me off right here and that's just gonna be the end of it_.

The biker sat down beside him and scratched at his beard. "We need to talk about what's goin' on between us," he began slowly and tentatively glanced over at the black man. "I think we need to get everything out in the open and then go on from there. Sound good?"

"I guess," Louis replied softly, staring down at his lap. _Here it comes..._

"Good. I'll go first." Francis cleared his throat and cracked his knuckles roughly. "I never told you what happened in my dreams and I think that if I tell you, they'll stop," he said hesitantly, his eyes not on the analyst. "Okay, so here goes... Pretty much what happens is that you—" The biker stopped himself, feeling a knot grow in his stomach. "Ugh, I dunno if I can do this."

"No; go on," the black man urged, his heart thumping wildly against his ribcage.

Francis gazed at his comrade for a moment before looking off once more. "Okay... Uh, so basically you...force yourself on me," he continued slowly, his face growing redder and redder with each syllable. "I try to fight back but I can't. And now every time I see you, I can't help but remember those stupid dreams." He shook his head, breathing out a sigh. "This is such a fuckin' nightmare."

Louis swallowed dryly, nodding his head. "Yeah, no kidding," he murmured. He turned his eyes to look at the gruff man and his stomach churned out of anxiety. "So do you think that they...mean something?"

The biker looked back over at Louis and his lips pursed into a frown. "I really don't know," he replied, a sense of hopelessness washing over him. "I mean..." Francis sighed heavily, rubbing his face. "Maybe they do."

The black man patted him on the shoulder, feeling Francis's muscles tense under his fingertips, and he grimaced. "Francis, it's okay if they do. I'm not gonna hold it against you."

Francis laughed sullenly, shaking his head. "Sure, you're not."

"I'm not," Louis repeated firmly, his grip tightening on the white man's shoulder. "If I was gonna hold it against you, I wouldn't have bothered to talk to you about it." He let out a sigh and let go of the other man. "What do you take me for—some kind of fair weather friend?"

"Louis, if I were to tell you that I had some kind of _feelings_ for you, you wouldn't turn your back on me? I mean, c'mon! That's fucking awkward as hell!" Francis spat out. He got up from the bed and walked over to the window, looking more at his reflection than what was on the other side of the glass. "You're my best friend. I don't want to lose you..." he murmured, his head sinking to rest against the cool windowpane.

The analyst scowled, a heat bubbling up inside his belly as he took in his comrade's response. With a low growl he got to his feet and walked over to where Francis stood, wrapping his arms around the biker's midsection. "You're so fucking stupid sometimes, Francis."

Francis snorted, gazing upon the arms holding him tightly, and he smiled. "Yeah, I know," he muttered as he trailed his hands up the chocolate colored limbs to hug him back. "I know."

* * *

"This shouldn't be that hard," Bill muttered under his breath as he sat at a desk in the corner of his bedroom. The only light in the room was provided by a small, metal desk lamp with the occasional flicker of lightning from behind his drawn curtains. The old man drummed his fingertips on the desk's wooden surface as he chewed the butt of his ink pen. His eyes rested upon a sheet of stationary that was partially filled with words. "Aww, fuck it," he grumbled as he crumpled up the paper and threw it against the wall.

Bill forced open his bedroom door and brushed past Zoey as she was walking back to her own room. He mumbled something about needing a smoke and continued on his way, earning a confused look from the girl.

Zoey glanced at the open door, and upon seeing the veteran walk outside onto the porch, she cautiously made her way into Bill's room. She looked around, noting how dim the room was, until her eyes came to lie on a wadded up piece of paper on the floor. The brunette looked over her shoulder to make sure the old man wasn't anywhere near and slowly approached the document. _Maybe I shouldn't_, she thought as her hand hesitated to snatch it up. _It's probably nothing._

She turned on her heels and took a step toward the door before spinning back around and quickly grabbing the stationary. Her fingers fumbled as she uncurled it to the best of her ability and before long the words came into view. She brushed her bangs behind her ear as she started to read, her eyebrows lowering in comprehension and her eyes darting faster and faster across the page. "Oh my god..."

_Dear Will,_

_Today was a hard day for me. I got your package finally and it was the most bittersweet gift I've ever been given. It was great to see all your medals and your pictures but the thing I loved most was reading your letter. I could hear your voice in my head as I read it and it brought you back to life. It was as if you were talking to me again. You have no idea how much I've missed that. All I could think, though, was that these were your last words to me. This would be the last time I'll ever hear from you again. It hurt, Will. It hurt so much to know that you really weren't coming back. I don't think I'll ever get over it._

_I'm sorry that I can't be more positive right now but I really am glad that I could get your letter. It means more to me than anything else I own, which isn't much anymore. I'd give anything for you to be alive again but at least I know you didn't have to see what I have in these past few months. It's worse than war, that much I'm sure._

_Despite how hellish it's been, I've come out of this thing with a few new friends. I think you'd like them. I wish I could introduce you to Zoey. She's a very special lady and next to you, she means the world to me. I didn't think I'd ever be able to love again after what happened with your mom, but being with her feels right. She kept me alive during the Infection and without her I know I wouldn't be able to go on. I just don't know how to tell her._

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Another chapter down, more to go!

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